East Meets West: Carpe Diem
by The Very Last Valkyrie
Summary: ON PERMANENT HIATUS. School's out, and one part of Alice Brandon's life has ended. Prospective engagee, always vampire girlfriend and ever danger magnet, Alice's human days are numbered. But this time, the peril awaiting is much closer to home...
1. Preface

**_I may not be uploading the rest anytime soon (though I may be). I've selected Valentine's as a possible date for the chapter one release, but when people plead I just seem to buckle and give in.  
So here it is - East Meets West: Carpe Diem - the preface. Enjoy.  
_

* * *

Preface**

A pair of red eyes glared furiously into mine, ablaze with anger and bloodlust. The mouth was pretty, but twisted into a pucker of rage which robbed it of any previous charm.

An ice white membrane surrounded the features; skin pallid and perfect over the bones beneath.

The creature's carotid remained perfectly still - there was no heartbeat, no life left in her, and she looked as if she had no pity for anyone or anything in the world.

Hesitantly, I reached out one finger and touched the cold glass of the mirror.


	2. Time Of Your Life

**_I have one motive, and one motive alone to uploading this. There will be NO MORE! At least for a bit.  
So go on over to YouTube, and find my East Meets West: Memento Mori teaser - you'll like it...account name is jasperinmyroom. Figures. Go watch it. And comment. And review this too. And get me a cheese sandwich. Yeah. Emmenthal.  
_

* * *

1. Time Of Your Life**

I neatly folded the flaps of a brown, nondescript cardboard box into a perfect square, tucking the edge of each beneath its neighbor.

"And are you _sure_ you're one hundred percent about his?" My mom asked, yet again.

I lifted my head from my packing to look at her. Since coming to Forks, WA, the lines on her face had softened. Some had even faded away entirely. Her hair was dark, like mine, but the deep brown was more mahogany than the ebony of my spiky crop.

"I'm sure," I told her again. "I'm ready for this. We both are."

She frowned, then began shifting more of my stuff from the floor into boxes. "You're awfully young, sweetie," She said. "And I know this scheme wasn't precisely your…well…idea."

I sighed, knowing she was right.

The whole 'trial marriage' thing was entirely Jasper's scheme, formulated in that completely absurd corner of his brain that insisted on regular proposals, despite my constant 'no's.

His plan was that we should move in together – or, more accurately – that _I_ should move in with him and his family. The apparent idiocy of being the only human in a house otherwise entirely occupied by vampires – domesticated or not – clearly escaped him.

"Alice? Honey?"

My mother's voice roused me from my reverie, and I looked up to see her running a roll of tape up and down the side of yet another cardboard box.

"I think that's the last," She said, sweeping a hand across the moisture on her brow. "Are you sure you don't want your dad and I to come and help you move in?"

"Um…no! That's okay!" I said brightly. Aside from the fact that my future roomies were capable of lifting the entire haul with one hand, I _really_ didn't want my parents to become aware of our sleeping arrangements.

Ever since we had begun dating (and even before that, though not to my knowledge) Jasper had stayed over in my room. Being a vampire, he couldn't exactly sleep or anything, but my slumbering hours seemed to hold some sort of draw for him; you could call it a kind of fascination.

So when my mom had asked (_oh_ so casually) about my room, I had told her that I would be taking one of the many empty rooms in the immense mansion which the Cullens owned.

And it wasn't as if we were planning on _doing_ anything! Well, except sleeping (me) and watching someone sleep (him). And there would probably be some kissing. And, of course, extended kissing when Jasper tried to make my heart jump out of my chest, just for kicks. But nothing _apart_ from that.

My mom had unobtrusively left while I was pondering and I straightened up, looking at the room I had hated so much when I first came to Forks, and was now leaving.

When I'd arrived, I'd vowed to make the room more _me_. But now, over two years later, the walls were still a pale, pleasant blue; the floor still light wooden planks. The yellowed lace curtains still hung at the window, drifting gently as the breeze stirred the old fabric.

This room had seen so many things that I never could have imagined even existed before I came to Forks. Vampires, werewolves and humans had trod the boards here. I had fumed silently at the annoying boy from my Spanish class here, refusing to recall his name even after his stunning beauty had shocked my gaze. This room had seen my love grow and unfurl itself from a point deep in my chest. It had seen me lose the anger, the bitterness.

And it had seen them return.

It had seen the tears and the screams when he left me (in essence, though not geographically). And I had blossomed out again, the wounds beginning to scab over; and then to bleed afresh when fate had separated us once more. It had seen our reunion, glorious in the morning light.

I walked in a slow circle, touching each piece of worn out furniture as I passed.

The bed was still single, even if I wasn't anymore.

The wardrobe was still unsteady, thought it seemed as if I had found my niche in the world.

The dresser was still too small.

I threw back my head and laughed. "Some things never change," I announced to the empty room.

A song floated to the forefront of my mind, its lyrics fitting and perfect. I sketched a descant higher than the melody as I stacked the boxes in one corner, ready for when Jasper's arrival.

_So take the photographs and still frames in your mind,  
__Hang it on a shelf in good health and good time.__  
Tattoos of memories and dead skin on trial,  
For what it's worth, it was worth all the while.  
It's something unpredictable, __but in the end it's right,  
I hope you had the time of your life._

The words rang oddly true for me. I had memories etched onto every surface in this room. My life had taken such an unpredictable turn when I arrived that I'd rarely ever had a moment to catch my breath before some new, impossible entity presented itself. And maybe I had had the time of my life here.

Seeing as I wasn't planning on living for very long.

I had made a promise, and I would stick to my end of it. I had promised Jasper that he could make me immortal…just not yet. And it was always _just not yet_. But eternity is a very long time to regret a decision, even if you doubt the fact that you will.

"Honey?" I gave a start and turned around, feeling oddly guilty. My dad was standing behind me; one hand slightly extended towards the door. His face bore a slight smile but he, too, like my mom, had an odd sadness present in his eyes. I felt a pang as I realized I was separating myself from the people who loved me.

_They're not the only people who love you_, I told myself sternly.

"Yeah?"

"He's waiting for you."

A wide smile split my face as I bounced out the door, dropping a quick kiss on my dad's cheek as I passed. "Thanks."

Jasper was at the bottom of the stairs, and he caught me as I almost flew down them. He chuckled, softly.

"Somebody's excited."

"Well, you know." I smoothed back my hair. "Big day."

"You're all dusty," He said, wiping a smudge from my nose. I took a step back, grinning sheepishly, and eyeing the gray marks I had left on his otherwise clean white button down.

"Sorry."

"Well." His grin became broader as my anticipation heightened his own. "As long as you're excited. And sure about this."

I rolled my eyes. "You sound like my mother. Anyway – this was _your_ idea, remember?"

"Only because you knocked all my other ideas flat."

"Your only other idea was marriage." I raised an eyebrow. "Which, by the way, we promised not to discuss today. So no more discussing."

"Alright," He agreed, sweeping his thumb over my cheek and displaying the mark that resulted. "No more discussing. I promise."

"How much stuff do you have, anyway?" He asked as we made our way up the stairs. "I'm not sure it'll all fit into my – hello, Mr. Brandon!"

My dad blinked at the sudden greeting, and pushed his glasses further up his nose. "Hello there, Jasper. Is everything…sorted? Alice's mom and I wanted to come and help but, knowing her…she refused."

"Everything's perfect," Jasper said smoothly. "And we'll be fine, Mr. Brandon – I do have four extremely capable siblings, not to mention Carlisle and Esme."

"And on that note – " I grabbed his hand. "We _really_ need to go and – "

"Oh, don't let me keep you." My dad gestured toward the door. "You just go on in and…get packed up."

"We haven't discussed one of the most important things yet," I said, blushing a fiery red as I closed the door behind us.

"Which is?"

"Jasper – I do tend to bleed. _A lot_."

"You just need to be more careful. I mean, the amount of accidents you could avoid by just looking where you're – "

"Jasper!" I snapped. "How about the, you know…" My face flushed even darker, and I lowered my voice to a murmur. "The unavoidable stuff?"

"The unavoi – oh!" His eyes widened. And then he laughed. "Alice, it's never bothered me, so there's no reason why it should bother any of the others."

My expression must have been confused, because he continued, "Hmmm…how can I put this in an inexplicit manner? Okay, well…it's sort of like it's dead already. So it holds no draw for us, if you see what I mean."

"Phew." I heaved a sigh of relief. "I really didn't want a mob of fully grown vampires trying to savage my thighs every single month."

He mock frowned. "You show us a discourteousy! We are more than prepared for every eventuality. After all – " He pulled me into his arms in a move faster than lightening. "Centuries of practice."

"Only one," I reminded him, yet again. "For you, at least."

His grip on my waist tightened. "Aren't you glad? For that, at least?"

"What for?" I asked, puzzled. He rolled his eyes, which were a warm honey color today. As ever, the color shifted and changed as I looked into it, refracting into many different shades of hue. I pulled myself back to reality with difficulty.

"What for? You, who claim to be in love with me, wouldn't care if I had had to wait _centuries_ for you? Oh, you heartless creature."

I flicked him. "I see what you mean. There's no need to go over the top."

"Correction. There is every need to go over the top, today of all days. After all, you are acquiescing to my request."

"Semi acquiescing," I said, stubbornly. "I'm still not marrying you."

He bent down and carefully trailed his lips from my ear to my chin and back again, seemingly amused by the shiver that rippled down my spine. "Oh, aren't you?" He purred. "To coin a phrase, your mind may be telling me no, but your bod – "

I clapped a hand over his mouth, scowling furiously. "_No_," I hissed. "Don't. You. Dare."


	3. Untouchable

**_I realised I've never really properly described a Jasper/Alice kiss. Why they're doing it, yes, but not exactly what they're doing. So this chapter is nice and fluffy for you.  
And offered me a grilled cheese sandwich - there went the Valentine's release! Also, because Valentine's kinda sucks. Unless you're in love. And they love you back. And they remember. And you do too. And you do/get something meaningful. Not really crappy, like my ex got me a few years ago. Half a packet of conversation hearts (or Love Hearts, if you're English like me) - he'd eaten the rest.  
_

* * *

2. ****Untouchable**

"I've never seen your room, you know," I commented as we slid the boxes into the voluminous bed of my truck. The day was clear, so hopefully my things wouldn't get water stained.

"You haven't?" Jasper frowned.

"I believe," I said wryly. "You were probably trying to prevent me from having my wicked way with you."

That had been one source of contention between us recently; half the time my human instincts were telling me to rip his clothes off and – well, you get the picture – and he did nothing to dissuade them. In fact, as he had demonstrated earlier, my hormones were his strongest ally in his harebrained attempts to get me into marriage.

The reason why we couldn't _do_ anything was simple – he'd break me. Nevertheless, he said we could try…if we got married.

"It really would help," I told him as he glided into the cab on one side and I jump/heaved on the other. "If you would _stop_ trying to drive me crazy." I turned the ignition, absent mindedly patting the stereo as the truck wheezed to life. "It's okay, baby."

He widened his eyes, the picture of innocence. "But driving you crazy is _so_ entertaining. And how come the Chevy gets endearments?"

"Because," I informed him, beginning to maneuver backwards. "The Chevy has never tried to tempt me into an early grave." I stopped at that, running over the phrase in my mind. Crap.

"Look, I didn't – "

"It's fine."

A silence fell over us as I drove carefully through the streets of Forks, vigilantly slowing and speeding as directed. The road was empty, despite the good weather; clearly not all Forksians were heat worshippers the way I was. If you could call the marginally raised temperature surrounding us _heat_.

"You realize," He remarked, finally. "That whatever you say, your parents still think that we're living in sin."

"_Living in sin_," I scoffed.

"Turn here."

"Already?"

I had to stamp on the brake, and Jasper clicked his tongue in gentle admonishment. I scowled at him, though I was more angry with myself. The mellow mood had been destroyed by one careless comment, and the smile he was trying to hide from me wasn't helping either.

Non-visitation of what was now 'home' made the extensive driveway seem even longer – the ferns and spruces and firs (plus other assorted vegetation) thicker than I remembered. I parked up right by the house, and got ready for the inevitable confrontation.

"Okay," I said, leaning my forehead on the steering wheel and shutting my eyes. "Whatever they're doing, go inside and tell them to stop doing it. We are _not_ having a repeat of my birthday. Especially not in Spanish."

"There are no carnivorous vampires this time," He pointed out.

I raised my head a little. "But you never did tell me what Maria was talking about."

He shook his head, golden curls shifting at the movement. "Nothing. Nothing of consequence."

"Jasper…"

He gave me a half smile. "You're going to hate me for saying this, but…"

"If I married you, I'd find out," I finished. "Yeah, I know."

His smile was rueful as he leant over and gave me a swift kiss on the forehead. "And _I_ promised not to mention it today. I do apologize. And I am sorry for reproaching you about it."

I leaned into him as his icy lips touched my skin. My own lips parted a little involuntarily, and a small exhalation escaped from between them. He laughed, following the line of my nose and lingering just above my mouth for much longer than seemed necessary.

"Sin sounds fun," I breathed.

"It is," He agreed, and kissed me.

It knocked me backwards as his kisses always did; the perfect molding of his lips around mine with the gentlest pressure – soft as satin, but still enough to make my heart race. I sighed again, winding my arms around his neck and almost getting impaled on the gear lever as I crushed myself against his cold skin.

He pulled away too soon – of course – but I was gratified to see that I wasn't the only one who looked disheveled.

"Bad Alice," He reprimanded, running a hand through his hair. "There are six vampires with extremely good hearing in that house."

I smiled, and pulled his face back down to the level of mine. "They can wait."

His lips followed the line of my jaw and I grinned wider, reveling in a moment of pure selfishness, not really giving a damn what they could hear inside.

"Do you remember the first time we kissed?" He asked, cool breath tickling my ear. I closed my eyes for a long moment.

"Yes. I bit you."

"I thought that was my thing."

"Well, you know. Getting into practice…"

His face turned ardent as he drew away, tracing down my front until his head was resting against my chest.

"Listen to your heart soar." His expression was dreamlike – eyes closed in rapture. "That's the most beautiful sound in the world."

My heart thrummed even as I tried to get the rate to slow, though I knew the effort was useless with him there. The silence in the car was absolute – for me, at least. For him, I knew my heartbeat and the scent of my blood would be swirling around us, practically irresistible in the confined space…

"Do I tempt you?" I asked, barely raising my voice above a whisper.

His golden eyes smoldered as he looked up. "Oh, yes. _All_ the time."

My heartbeat kicked up another notch. "Not in that way. I meant…you know…"

"Ah. I understand." He leaned away a little, rising until he was at the level of my throat. "Well, now you mention it, your neck does look particularly luscious today…" He bent in again and pressed a soft kiss to my jugular. "But only in _that_ way. And so no, I don't find you appealing. I'm too used to you."

I tucked my head under his chin, curling into the embrace. "Can we just stay here all day?"

"No."

I screamed – Jasper didn't. Emmett was at my window, a neat pile of boxes beside him. A large grin stretched his features.

"Jesus, Emmett!" I yelled. "You scared the crap outta me!"

"Uh-huh." He nodded, eyebrow raised. "C'mon, Alice, it wasn't if your heart wasn't going several hundred beats per minute anyway."

"Blame your brother," I growled as he opened the door and tugged me out. Rosalie appeared by his side, joining him with supernatural speed. I gave her a smile as she lifted a few boxes, and a returning grin lit her face.

"Nuh-uh," She said, pushing me away when I tried to take the load from her. "The boys will bring the rest. Come inside."

"How are you, Rosalie?" I inquired as she led me toward the front door. "I haven't seen you in a while."

"I'm good." She pushed the handle down with her elbow as her hands were full, gracefully opening the door with a nudge of the hip. "Emmett and I got married again. Did Jasper tell you?"

"No." _Again?_ I thought. "But is 'congratulations' still the right sentiment?"

Her white teeth gleamed in the strange darkness of the hall. Why weren't the lights on?

"Oh God," I said, realizing and backing away. "Don't you even – "

The lights suddenly flicked on as a white finger touched the far switch, and the whole room became illuminated. The rest of the family were so far back that it was no surprise I hadn't seen them in the gloom, but they quickly rushed forward to envelop me.

"Oh," Bella sighed, squeezing me around the waist. "It's going to be so nice having another girl around here. All Rose does is try and make me wear designer things."

"But you look so nice in them!" I remarked, pulling away, only to be wrapped in another pair of arms – this time Esme's.

"It's so nice to have you here, Alice," She told me sincerely, brushing hair out of my eyes. In an undertone, she said, "Thank you for making my son so happy."

"It's the least I could do," I replied, turning to look as Jasper entered, arms full of boxes. Framed in the dim green light of the doorway, he looked like a demigod moonlighting as a porter. He lifted his head and smiled radiantly at the way I was surrounded by his family.

"It's the least I could do. " I repeated.


	4. Lying Is The Best Fun A Girl Can Have

**_My writer's block is, hopefully, off in Tahiti somewhere, so the next chapter will be, with any luck, a little faster off the press.  
So maybe you can visit my YouTube account, and watch all three Memento Mori teasers. And comment! Oh God, yes!  
_

* * *

3. ****Lying Is The Best Fun A Girl Can Have**

Our gathering was interrupted by the muted beep of the answering machine.

"This is a message for Alice Brandon. Hi Alice, this is Karen Newton. Your mom called me about the…um…change of address, and I was wondering if you could come in and buddy up with Mike for a shift? Call me when you get this message."

Jasper sighed wearily, picking up the receiver from its cradle and dutifully handing it to me.

She answered on the first ring. "Hello?"

"Mrs. Newton, it's Alice."

"Alice." My name was an exhalation of relief. "I'm so sorry to call you, sweetie, but Katie bailed on me and if yesterday is anything to go by then poor Mike will be up to his eyes in – "

"It's okay," I soothed. "I'll be down in five minutes."

"Alice, you are an angel." The phone gave a click, and then went dead.

I turned back to the assorted family members with a disappointed expression on my face. Inside though, I was crowing with victory.

"Guys, I am _so_ sorry," I empathized. "You guys got all organized and everything for me…but the thought of Mike there on his own, what with all the summer hikers and campers…." My voice trailed off, but I felt genuinely bad when I saw Esme's face.

"It's alright," She said gently, though her marble face was set in planes of sadness. "They need you."

"I'll drive you," Jasper added, grabbing the keys to my truck.

"Oh, you don't have to – "

His eyes scorched at me, and my stomach did little flip flops as I tried to work out whether he was just annoyed or really, really angry.

"You," He said when we were safely installed in the truck and the engine was running. "Are a little snake."

"I'm – " I began, but when I looked up from my lap I found he was laughing, his golden eyes brimful of amusement.

"You," He spluttered. "Will find almost any excuse to avoid being sociable, won't you? I'd say it was the attention, but – " He broke off as more laughter choked his words.

I folded my arms, miffed. "I'm glad I amuse you."

He continued to chuckle all the way to Newton's Olympic Outfitters, and I continued to ignore him, though his laughter was as infectious as ever. The tides of mirth only ceased when we pulled up outside, and his face suddenly became serious as he leaned toward me. I groaned.

"Mike is not watching. You don't need to – "

He gave another bark of laughter as he half pulled me out of my seat to kiss me hard - I was breathless and dizzy by the time it ended. His eyes were burning, molten; and overall amused.

"That wasn't for Mike's benefit, you silly girl."

"Then what was it for?" I asked, puzzled. He lightly kissed the tip of my nose.

"Because I love you, no matter how utterly insane you are."

"Um…okay." I fumbled for the catch of the door and almost fell out when it opened suddenly, stepping heavily onto the asphalt. Over the roar of the truck as he drove away, I could hear a different kind of roar.

Mike's face was like a stone as I opened the door, eyes narrowing as he focused on me. As I pulled the grisly spare uniform from under the desk, he started.

"So. My mom says you've moved."

"That's right," I answered, giving my hair an experimental ruffle.

"Why?"

"Mike, is that any of your business?" His hard look dropped a little at my scolding, but he plowed on nonetheless.

"I'm your friend. I think I deserve to know what you're doing, and with whom." Ah. So _that_ was what this was about. Jealous fool.

"I'm touched by your concern," I said acidly, before skipping into a lighter tone. "But if all Jasper and I are doing is having wild, passionate and overall _excellent_ sex at all hours of the day and night, I don't think you have that much to worry about."

I looked up coyly, and his jaw was practically on his chest. I restrained a sigh. "I'm kidding, Mike."

"Oh." His jaw rapidly readjusted, and he smiled, almost jovial. "Just, you know…checking."

I grinned back at him. "If anything goes wrong, you'll be the first to know, and you have first dibs."

His smile stretched even wider. "I'll hold you to that."

Shoot. Why was it that I always forgot that less was more with Mike?

We had quite an enjoyable time after that, laughing behind the customers' backs as we tried to outdo each other by seeing who could sell the most outrageous item.

"Oh yes," I said, eyes wide. "It's an absolute necessity. I never leave home without mine."

"Without your NASA all weather all terrain tent?" The woman asked, doubtfully. "But I'm only going on a five mile charity hike!"

I winced. "Five miles? Then you'll definitely need a tent like this. Where else are you going to…break?"

"Break?"

"This would be _the_ five mile charity hike?" I affirmed.

"The only one in town, yes."

I winced. "Well – you're obviously new here, or else you'd know – the chief's five mile charity hikes are more like full blown ocean going camping holidays. You'll _definitely_ need this."

The woman blanched. "How much?"

I generously gave her my staff discount, seeing as how we'd fleeced her. She typed in her pin looking dazed, and I had to give her a gentle nudge before she finally left.

I collapsed down on the counter as Mike, giggling, hastily switched our OPEN sign to CLOSED.

"I didn't realize how late it was," I said breathlessly as he joined me. "It must be past six!"

"It is," He answered, and when I turned on him his blue eyes were solemn.

I regarded his face with casual interest. Mike hadn't changed since my arrival; seemingly one of the few static points in the incredible movable world in which I spent my days. His hair was still in precise blond spikes – eyes still a pleasing, sky blue. His lips were a perfect pink pout, like a cupid's bow…

And they were coming toward me.

"Uh…Mike…" I said, but he seemed determined on his course, latching onto my arm.

"Mike," I said again, this time more annoyed. "I really don't wanna have to hurt you."

He pulled back a little at that, laughing. "You couldn't hurt me, Alice. You're tiny."

I gave him a shove on the shoulder, smiling to show that he was forgiven. "That's for now," I warned. "But you ever try and kiss me again, and I'll set Emmett on you."

He visibly paled.

There was a gentle tap on the glass door, and we both looked up with a jump to see Jasper standing in the semi-darkness, waiting. Mike groaned quietly.

"I guess I'll have to release you to your keeper now," He remarked, getting up to unlock the door.

"Thanks, Mike." I hopped up, dropping a quick kiss on his cheek as I departed. When I looked back over my shoulder, he looked a little dazed.

"What _have_ you been doing?" Jasper inquired as I joined him. The murky blue of the evening turning the trees to giants, the cars to gleaming animals. "That boy's emotions are in a whirl like nothing else. I'd feel almost sorry for him if I wasn't sure it was something to do with you."

"He'll be fine," I replied offhandedly.

A cold hand wound its way round mine and when I gazed upward there was a new glint in his eye. "Shall we go out?" He offered.

"Out?"

"You know. On a date."

I was surprised. Any realistic date-like interaction had been off the radar for months, probably due to the abnormality of our situation.

"Where to?" I queried.

He chuckled. "There is, of course, only one place we can go. And it involves driving to Port Angeles."

I thought for a second. "Bella Italia?"

"Bella Italia."


	5. Green Eyed Human

**

* * *

4. ****Green Eyed Human**

In my truck, it took us an hour to get to Port Angeles, the engine whining and complaining all the way. I murmured soothingly to it throughout, earning constant 'she's crazy' looks from Jasper.

Pretty soon, however, we were parked up on the boardwalk and walking the short distance to the restaurant. The dusk had faded well and truly into night, and the sky was magnificent – deep, velvety azure with thousands of stars, the clouds for once blown away.

"What brought this on?" I asked curiously as he held the door open for me, gesturing me ahead of him into the cozy eatery.

His voice was velvet soft as he answered. "We're celebrating. Semi acquiescence, remember?"

The noise level in the room abruptly dropped as he followed me in, a well placed elbow from one hostess in her desperation to seat us sending another sprawling.

"A table for two?" Her voiced was low pitched, purring. She had obviously already dismissed me as nothing but a nuisance; an obstacle in her quest for Jasper. Why did people always do that?

"Please."

"Right this way." She walked ahead of us, swinging her hips sinuously in their low riders. Jasper's gaze remained staunchly averted, which made me smile.

"Here you are," The hostess informed us silkily, waving us into a small booth. "Your server will be right over."

"Thank you," Jasper replied, and I saw her gulp at the sound of his voice. She hurried away, heels clacking on the tiled floor, no doubt to dish to someone behind the scenes.

"I really can't take you anywhere," I teased, sliding onto the plush seat. "You insist on making women everywhere hyperventilate."

He sat down fluidly opposite me, reaching a cold hand across the table to hold mine. "Well," He pointed out. "At least you know there's only one woman _I_ want." He gave my fingers a gentle squeeze, and my heart did something similar.

"Hello!" A voice came floating over the top of the booth, and I looked up in irritation. A bottle blonde waitress came eagerly toward us, patting her recently styled hair. "My name is Christina, and I'll be your server for this evening."

"Good evening, Christina," Jasper said politely, and she reacted in the exact same way the hostess had.

"What can I get you guys?" She fluttered, orienting her entire being toward him.

He raised an eyebrow at me. "Alice?"

"Can I get a coke?"

"Two cokes," He confirmed.

"I'll be right back with those!"

_I bet you will_, I thought wryly. _I bet you'll run the whole way just to look at him again faster. Well hands off, beeyotch. This one's mine._

"You look as if you are having some unpleasant thoughts, Miss Brandon." His quiet voice broke into my reverie. "Nothing too cruel, I hope?"

"No," I lied. "But I _did_ threaten Mike with Emmett earlier."

He chuckled – he'd laughed more today than I'd ever heard before. "Emmett will be pleased. He might even try and persuade you to let Mike kiss you, just to get his hand in."

"Your cokes!" The waitress announced, sounding breathless. Yup, she had run. She deposited them on the table with two paper napkins, so it could be assumed these were not our original drinks.

"Chris, where's my – " The new voice trailed off when whoever it was caught sight of Jasper, and the cross looking brunette's mouth dropped open. "Oh – well – you're busy. Just – just – wow." She clapped a hand over her mouth and skittered away, leaving our waitress to turn a bright beet red.

"Um…" She said, to cover her embarrassment. "Are you guys ready to order?"

Jasper turned deferentially to me again. "Alice?"

The blonde turned with a tiny sigh to face me, shooting me an almost rude look.

"Um…" I gave the menu a cursory glance. "I'll have the mushroom ravioli."

"And you?" She inquired, spinning on her heel faster than I would have thought possible. Jasper gave a short laugh.

"Nothing for me, thank you."

"There's nothing?" She asked innocently, though her meaning was blatant. "There really isn't _anything_ I can get for you?"

"Not a thing." He smiled blithely and she turned away, speeding toward the kitchen. I spent an enjoyable minute or two imagining how she'd bully the chef into getting our order pushed to the top of the queue.

"You know she wasn't only offering you food, right?" I remarked, taking a sip of coke as I watched the bubbles rise in his untouched glass. "And why did you get _that_, anyway?"

"In case you were very thirsty," He said, gallantly. "Anyway, if I make a big show of handing it to you, maybe the waitress will stop giving off the emotions that she is."

She obviously took that as her cue. A tray of steaming pasta landed in front of me with alarming speed; I'd never been served so fast in my life.

"Mushroom ravioli!" Christina screeched, sounding practically hysterical. She didn't even make an excuse to stay this time, just remained in the same spot, staring dreamily at Jasper, who was beginning to look a little scared. She didn't move a muscle until the brunette from earlier came and pulled her away.

"Like I said." I speared a ravioli with my fork, shifting my gaze to the food. "I can't take you _anywhere_."

He grinned, tracing lines in the condensation on his cool glass. "Can I help it if females other than you find me…irresistible? It goes with the territory."

"Not just the females," I added, throwing a sharp look at a gangly youth who was goggling at Jasper from a nearby table.

Jasper smirked.

"What I don't see," I continued. "Is why your swains continually refuse to see me as a threat. I mean, I know I'm hardly your equal in the looks department but – "

"You can't be jealous, surely."

I shook my head, but I could feel a blush creeping up my face, staining me crimson to my hairline.

"You are!" He sounded delighted.

I kept my eyes on the ravioli, expression chagrined. His cold hand fastened on mine, pulling it away from the plate. "You should know," He said softly. "You have no need to be."

I refused to look up, fearing the all too alluring power of his penetrating, honey colored eyes.

"I trust you," I began, trying to work out what to say. "Enough to know that you wouldn't be unfaithful to me. But I look at your sisters – and Esme – and I wonder why you don't love anyone…well…more like yourself." I knew he was about to protest, so I raised a hand. "I know you find me interesting. I know you find me mysterious, but…one day – someday – maybe you'll come to your senses and realize that hat you need is – "

"You?" His cold finger lifted my chin, forcing me to meet his burning gaze. "Obviously I haven't made this clear enough. _You're_ the one that I want. And," He lowered his voice. "Vampires – well, we – mate for life."

"Life?" I teased. He rolled his eyes in response.

"Alright, eternity then." And so saying, he leaned across the table and kissed me firmly on my surprised mouth.

"It's a good thing I didn't have a mouthful of ravioli," I commented when he pulled away.

"I would have noticed."


	6. Vows

**_Sung to the tune of Barry Manilow's Copacabana (you know, the one about Lola, the showgirl):  
I had a problem  
That problem plagued me  
That problem's name was writer's block and it curled even my socks  
But I won through it  
My problem blew it  
And I released chapter five without the help of five steak knives  
Cha cha cha!_

* * *

5. ****Vows**

We didn't stay long – just enough time for me to scarf down a plate of ravioli (plus a sundae – not as good as Jasper's) and for Jasper to narrowly avoid being molested by practically the entire staff and clientele of Bella Italia, all of whom shot me baleful looks as we exited.

We walked slowly back to my truck, the sound of my footsteps too loud for the hallowed stillness of the night. The vampire beside me made slightly less noise than a prowling cat. The blackness was so complete that I wasn't afraid to ask him my next question. "Have you ever…you know…with anyone?" I let my voice trail off suggestively.

His answer was curt. "Yes. And you?"

"Never."

"Does that bother you?"

I considered the question for a moment, sketching patterns on the back of his cold hand with my fingertips.

"No," I said, finally. "I don't…_think_ it does. I mean, you chose me, didn't you?" I paused, then broached a slightly more difficult subject. "Did you love them?"

"No." He squeezed my hand. "So you don't have to worry."

"I'm not worried," I huffed. "I'd just – you know – prefer to know – if you did."

"Did is not the problem," He countered. "The problem would be if I _do_. Which I don't. And never have. What about you, anyway? Did you never find anyone you wanted?"

"One," I admitted. "And yeah, for a while I was crazy about him. But there's a difference between being crazy about someone and someone driving _you_ crazy."

He laughed quietly, and we walked in silence for a while, contemplating. The darkness was absolute; the sky a deep, velvety black. The stars were out, for once, the moon full and round – glowing a misty orange pink like an apricot.

"It's the dust," He said, seeming to read my thoughts. "And the light reflection."

"It's beautiful."

He didn't answer, though his eyes, too, were fixed on it. He seemed to be thinking hard about something.

"I'm breaking my promise."

I groaned. "Do you have to? I was really enjoying myself."

"Yes." His mouth was set, firm. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath between my clenched teeth, steeling myself.

"Okay. Shoot. Me, preferably."

Jasper's face – or what I could see of it in the darkness – was lovely, and impassive; a Roman deity carved from marble.

"I've heard your objections. But have you even once listened to my reasons?"

"No." I conceded. "I wasn't entirely sure you had any."

He ignored that. "For over a century, I've been alone – not literally, you understand, but to all intents and purposes – alone. And I watched a family grow around me and I felt like…well, I felt like I was on the outside, looking in. I wanted to have what they had."

"So," I tried. "You want me to…belong to you, in a more quantifiable way?"

"No!" His hand strayed from his side and brushed carefully over my face. "No. I don't want to put you in a gilded cage and just _look_ at you. Actually, that's a lie. That's exactly what I do want to do. I want to surround you with beautiful things so you can sit still and wonder, and I can keep an eye on you. But I think…I think that you would wither and die if you were caged. And so I would go with you, wherever you went, and keep you safe.

"It's a jealous, possessive love, I know, but it's how I feel." He finished. His fingers were feather light along my cheekbone.

"And you think…you think marrying me will bring all that about?"

"Yes," He laughed. "Also, people will begin to talk if we're not married after several thousand years together."

Several thousand years…how could I even begin to comprehend that time span? But he wasn't finished.

"And also – " His hand halted across my cheek. He paused.

"What?" I breathed.

He gazed down at me, his golden eyes warm and glowing in the darkness. "Alice. My love. You're not the only one being driven crazy. There are times when I could just…eat you alive." His voice had lowered to a seductive purr, and he bent to my level, caressing my neck with his lips.

One long shiver ran down my spine, followed by another. I curled an arm around his neck and leaned into his embrace.

"And if we were married?" I whispered.

"Then I doubt I'd ever allow you to put clothes on or leave the room again."

My legs turned to jelly and I sighed, practically melting into a puddle of contentment.

* * *

Our drive home was silent – pensive. Jasper had given me food for thought, now he had explained the reasoning and ramifications behind his bizarre matrimonial aspirations.

Okay, okay, let's face it – I was a giant bag of hormones.

It really was very unfair of him to toy with my emotions like that. I'd say he'd been using his special ability on me…if I didn't always see stars when he kissed me.

But honestly – he really had no right to make the idea of marriage sound so appealing. Marriage…appealing…in the same sentence? Was I going mad?

But the fact that his want was just as desperate as mine (giant hormone bag or not) made the idea seem not so objectionable. I mean, what did I have to do? Turn up on the day – wear a nice dress – smile for some photos…

Okay, I was kidding myself. I was too young, for one. And there would be months of preparation, planning things that no one had ever thought to plan before. Picking the calligraphy on an invitation, for example. Who _actually_ cares?!

"So," I mused. "Hypothetically. If we _were_ to get married…we'd have to do the whole giant blowout shindig, right? You know, with the cake and the flowers and the band…"

"Not if you didn't want to," He reassured quickly. "Hypothetically, of course, we could get married in Vegas. You could even wear hypothetical jeans if it made you feel better."

Hmmm…hypothetical jeans. The whole thing didn't sound so bad when hypothetical casual wear was involved…

"But which would you prefer?" I asked shrewdly, narrowing my eyes.

"Hypothetically?"

"Hypothetically."

"Well, hypothetically, I wouldn't want you to look back in, say, a hundred years, and all you'd have of our wedding was a picture of you and me with an Elvis impersonator. I've seen too many like that."

I tilted my head back into the worn upholstery and closed my eyes.

"So, are your hypothetical questions going anywhere?"

"No," I said sternly. "So don't get your hopes up."

His chuckle was so quiet I could barely hear it.


	7. Ten In The Bed

**_In response to some reviews - yes, Jasper _is_ getting rather saucy. The best is yet to come, however...the honeymoon should be particularly interesting..._  


* * *

6. ****Ten In The Bed**

Traveling back, I wondered if it might just be easier to concede defeat now – after all, Jasper would get a promise out of me somehow, and I wouldn't put it past him to try and drag it from me in my sleep.

"You're nervous," He informed me. I flushed a deep scarlet.

"Wouldn't you be, if you were me?"

"Hmmm…" He thought about it for a minute. "I suppose so. But seeing as I'm not planning on ravishing you or anything, you have no need to be worried." He grinned broadly, and I felt my own mouth twitch up in response.

"Still – it sort of makes us a more of a proper couple, doesn't it? Living together."

"What you really mean is that it makes us more of a proper couple _sleeping_ together." His eyes sparkled. "And all I'll be doing is watching you."

I groaned. "Pervert."

"Always pleased to oblige."

He was right though, and in my heart of hearts, I was nervous. It didn't bother me that I was entering the lair of a vampire; I was too busy fretting about entering the inner sanctum of the _boy_ (man – senior citizen – whatever).

"Honestly!" He laughed. "Will you try and slow your heart down? I don't even have a coffin in there!"

Crap. I hadn't even thought about that. There's only so much you can do on a single bed…

* * *

Edward quietly serenaded us as we came through the door, his long fingers moving rapidly over the black and white piano keys. Bella sat beside him, her beautiful face full of emotion. I wondered why.

"He wrote this for her," Jasper whispered in my ear. I scowled at him, though the blow was softened by the sweetness of the information.

"Can you _please_ leave the mind reading to your brother? It's creeping me out!"

"You're back," Bella said unnecessarily, hopping down from the piano stool with the grace of a swan. "Did you have a nice evening?"

"Pleasant," I said shortly, and she raised her eyebrows.

"I broke my promise," Jasper intoned in a theatrical whisper. My brows furrowed even deeper, and Bella's wrinkled to match. A tiny crease appeared between her eyebrows.

"Jasper – that was not nice."

"Was it urgent, though?" Edward asked, following Bella down from the dais and placing his hands on her shoulders. "If I remember correctly, in regards to proposals it's best to strike while the iron is hot."

Jasper grinned, muttering something about 'heat' and 'no irons'.

"Well," I said, clearing my throat. "This has been lovely, but I'm tired. I need to get to bed"

All three vampires stared at me with their wide, golden eyes. I hoped fervently that I wouldn't have more than one spectator tonight.

"To sleep," Edward murmured. "To sleep, perchance to dream."

"Aye, there's the rub," Jasper replied taking my hand. "Alice refuses to shut up when she dreams. And those dreams are odd, to say the least. Did I tell you – "

"Enough!" I growled, blushing. It had, I admit, been pretty stupid to tell him about the dream I had about running down the road naked, wearing nothing but a pair of Wonder Woman socks. However, as I'd been yelling about it all night, he was very curious as to what had been going on to get me so hot and bothered.

_I should have just said you_, I chided myself as we trooped up the stairs. _When he asked, I should have just said 'You'…_

"And this is my room."

So intent had I been on my inner monologue that I had barely noticed the walk along the lightly paneled passage, and now I was standing in front of a door which was identical to every other on the landing. Jasper gave me a gentle push.

"This is _our_ room," I corrected, and opened the door.

It would all have to be rearranged. The feng shui was completely off, and the whole room spelled out 'boy' in Caps.

The walls were a dark midnight blue, as was the ceiling, which contained several silver spotlights, dotted about like stars. The bookshelves and desk were brushed steel, though the swivel chair was worn, sagging brown leather.

And the bed. Oh yes, the bed.

Well, for one, it was huge! You know that song called Ten In The Bed? Well, the little one would have to say roll over for quite some time before anyone hit the floor. The sheets were striped in long vertical rows of black and white over what appeared to be a perfect black sheet and snowy white pillows.

"W-O-W," I said, stretching the word into three syllables.

"Do you like it?" His voice sounded almost anxious, and I smiled.

"Well, the Zen in here is all wrong. And who has a metal desk, anyway?"

His revenge was swift as I felt his cold lips on my neck. "Me. Obviously."

I snorted, though even that sounded shaky. "Yeah. Well. You…you…" I tried desperately to muster my thoughts and ignore what his proximity was doing to me. "You don't count!"

"It's a new bed," He said silkily.

"Is it now?" I gulped.

"Care to break it in?"

He didn't wait for an answer, just picked me up and glided across the room, faster and quieter than a shade. He crouched over me, lips pulling back from his gleaming teeth.

"Um – " I quavered, gulping again.

"Relax, Alice. I'm not going to eat you."

He leaned into me until my back was flat on the striped bedspread, and then began kissing me in a way which should be prohibited, if it wasn't already. I overreacted, as ever – a combination of the revelations of earlier and my overwhelming need for him making me pull him closer until his long, lean body was barely an inch above mine. When I pulled away, his eyes glittered.

"Oh no you don't."

He clamped my arms behind my back and growled quietly as I wriggled.

"I could get used to this," He commented. "Your pulse rate sounds _extremely_ unhealthy."

"I'll scream," I warned. He rolled his eyes.

"The immortal damned don't do rescue missions."

His lips moved to my collarbone and he trailed along it, inhaling deeply as he did.

"As I've said before…you made not have the most potent blood in the world but it is…intoxicating."

I focused on trying not to hyperventilate.


	8. Brazen

**_Why is Bella slightly OOC in this, you might be wondering?  
BECAUSE I WANT HER TO BE!!!  
Actually, no. I get asked this a lot, and it's because in order to make the whole thing flow properly, she needed to take on facets of Alice's character, as Alice did with hers. Hope that clears it up.  
_

* * *

7.**** Brazen**

I was exhausted, but exhilarated – the overwhelming knowledge that my need for him – my mate – was reciprocated, perhaps even more so. He had, after all, years of experience to draw on.

"You," Jasper said, kissing my puffy eyelids. "Are worn out, and you need to sleep."

"Five more minutes," I bargained, latching on to his neck. He chuckled delightedly.

"No! I know how grumpy you are when you don't get enough sleep, so – " He drew one of my boxes across the floor to him. "I can either hop out the window, or you can go to the bathroom. Which would you prefer?"

My heart pounded as I made my request. "Stay. Just – don't look." He made a great show of turning around and placing his hands over his eyes, while I slid off the bed and delved in the box for my pajamas. I couldn't be bothered to find any decent ones tonight, so I just pulled out the snuggly Hello Kitty flannels I'd had for years.

"You even twitch," I warned. "And you'll be one _dead_ dead man."

I faced away from him as I changed, feeling half shy and half expectant. It was one thing for him to sneak into my room every night, but quite another to share a room _with_ him. He obviously took that to mean he had the right to stare all he wanted.

A cold hand alighted on my bare spine and I shrieked. "Jasper!" I hissed. "I'm half dressed! _Do you mind_? And you'd better not be looking!"

"I am," He confessed. "At your back."

The finger of ice traced the ridges of my spine, delicately followed the pattern of my ribs. And there I was, with no top on.

"Turn around now," I threatened. "Or I'll flash you."

"I wouldn't mind."

"Well _I_ would. Turn. _Now_."

He consented to my request, though I more sensed than saw the movement. I slipped the pajama top over my head and shivered once before plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Decent I am."

"And in pink, too," He said, turning around. "Well I never. Who'd have thought it. Alice Brandon, emo extraordinaire…wears pink."

I blew a raspberry. "What was with the eye opening and back touching anyway? Are you trying to give me a coronary?"

"No. But I couldn't resist…"

"If you saw anything else then in God's name I'll – "

"I didn't see a thing," He informed me, voice suddenly sober. "But you are exceptionally beautiful, you know. There isn't a mark on you."

"You haven't seen all of me yet."

"More's the pity."

We sat in silence for a moment, until he rose elegantly and shifted a little, kneeling until he was at my level. One white hand ran along the length of my jaw.

"You don't realize quite how perfect you are," He said, quietly. "So very flawless."

I snorted. "I do get zits, you know."

"That's not what I mean. Whether your sebaceous glands are overactive or not, you are faultlessly formed."

"Yeah, only pint sized."

His golden eyes blazed. "Will you stop that? It's very frustrating."

I sighed. "Okay. Can I go to sleep now?"

He laughed softly, once. "All you had to do was ask…"

I stuck my tongue out. For all the maturity (and electricity) humming in the air tonight, I seemed to be behaving very childishly. Which was just the way I wanted it.

Jasper ceremoniously lifted up the bed clothes and I wriggled into the exquisitely plush interior, wondering what thread count the sheets had…

He lay much more gracefully beside me, encircling my waist with his arms.

And that was it. Any worry I'd had evaporated. Because it was identical to every other best night of my life so far. The perfect contrast of his icy, marble flesh and my soft, warm body, the blood beating only a little way beneath the skin…

* * *

I hadn't even realized I was asleep till I woke; clapping my hands over my ears at the boom of a new voice.

"Jasper!" It cried.

"Shhh!" hissed another, next to my ear. "She's asleep."

I rolled over and groaned, burrowing into Jasper's side. He stroked my hair absentmindedly, shushing me softly as he did so.

"Not any more, Jazz," The voice laughed.

"Emmett!" Came the hiss again. "Human beings need eight _hours_ sleep! At _least_!"

"Okay, okay, I'm going," Emmett replied, sullen as he left the room. Relieved, I closed my eyes and was just re-entering the welcome darkness when –

"Oh. Am I disturbing you?"

"Rosalie!"

"What?" She sounded affronted. "Emmett told me to come up."

"Then you can tell him from me – he's a dead man! He woke Alice up, and now you have too!"

Rosalie's voice dropped to a hallowed whisper. "Really? Oh Alice, I'm _so_ sorry."

I flapped a hand in her vague direction, eyes still closed. Jasper's chest vibrated a little as he laughed. "Sleep," He instructed, his breath tingling my ear.

The door shut for a second time – before reopening, less than a minute later.

"Edward!" Jasper whisper/roared. "You of all people should know that – "

"It's important," Edward cut in. "Deadly important. Come on Jasper. It's not like the _wolves_ will descend while you're gone. Less than five minutes – I promise."

"Alright." Jasper's response was weary; his icy lips brushing my forehead for perhaps a second. "I'll be right back, I promise."

"Mmmf," I replied, grabbing a pillow in his absence.

* * *

I looked like hell in the morning. With my dark eyes and the pansy patches beneath them, I resembled any one of my vampire family at their thirstiest. Jasper forced me down for breakfast, practically spooning the cereal in my mouth as I swayed, dangerously close to landing in the Cap'n Crunch.

I just wanted to sleep the day away on the giant bed – or even better, return to my house (_my parents' house_, I reminded myself) and doze on the big sofa where no inquisitive supernatural siblings would come to annoy me.

"You need a holiday," Bella informed me, sitting opposite and regarding my food with interest. "Oo. I think I used to like that."

"I've only just – arrived," I said blearily, punctuating my sentence with a jaw cracking yawn. I could barely see her through the fringe of my lashes.

"Yes," She agreed. "But you need one, none the less. You've had a lot of physical and mental stress this year – maybe you need to get away from Forks for a time."

"You've already planned this, haven't you?" I accused. I could barely see the brilliance of her responding beam from beneath my drooping lips.

"Yes."

"Okay," I sighed, giving in and laying my head on the table. "When, where, who, how?"

"Later this afternoon; I doubt you could stand another night with us disturbing you. Not far – just along a bit. You and Jazz, of course. Plane."

"Along a bit?" I demanded. "_Where_, exactly?"

"It's a surprise…"

My head dropped back to the table with a dull thud. "I hate surprises."


	9. Committing Felonies

**_Heavens, is it chapter eight already? I am tres surprised!  
Kind of a filler chapter, I guess. The best is coming up!_  


* * *

8. Committing Felonies  
**

"We're almost home."

Jasper's voice roused me and, indeed, as I glanced out the window I saw the familiar shape of Sea-Tac a little way beneath us. An odd sense of déjà vu brought back memories of the last time I'd returned home by plane.

"Almost?" I scoffed. "I do believe you've forgotten the trip to Port Angeles, the trip home, the – "

He grinned, laying a cool finger across my lips. "Don't say anything else, or I'll ruin the surprise."

"More surprises?" I groaned. He just laughed, closing the shade on the window.

Texas had seemed an odd choice of vacation spot for a vampire, but there were indelible memories there for Jasper, faint as they were. He'd showed me things he remembered, things he still knew; and in return, I'd showed him the parts I found beautiful – arid plains covered in scrub which reminded me of Arizona, and the lush green contrast of the smarter districts.

Bella had been right – the break had done me good. Though we were nocturnal (me sleeping through the day and the two of us venturing out at night, in order not to cause traffic accidents), it had been enjoyable to have some time away, just to be alone for once.

* * *

"I don't know how you can stand it," I commented one night as we lay on the hard ground, gazing at the clarity of the stars. "Being surrounded by people all the time. I guess it's an only child thing, but – "

The patterns he was tracing on my arms gave me gooseflesh. "I've changed since I met you – but it used to be very disconcerting for me too. For a long time, all I knew was war. I was very apart from them; very isolated."

I rolled over to face him. "But Emmett – Edward – "

"Are my brothers because of _you_," He told me. "As much a part of the family as I was, I was passive, and not very big on contact. And then you turned up and practically battered my walls down."

"Yeah, well. I've never quite understood what's so enchanting about architecture."

* * *

The carousel had made three revolutions before I finally spotted our cases.

"I'm sure you didn't bring five," Jasper commented, hefting my fluorescent orange luggage in a way which belied his supposed mortality.

I folded my arms defensively, lifting his tiny beige hold-all one handed. "There were so many interesting things to see! And do! And _buy_…"

He rolled his eyes, grabbing a trolley.

"What do you need that for?"

"You'll see."

When we were outside, in the grim, gray parking lot, he wheeled the cases (and me) over to the bordering fringe of trees, producing something from the pocket of his khakis. I examined it more closely.

"Why have you got rope in your pocket?" I queried.

His teeth flashed, and less than a second later I felt my body hit the trolley's metal framework as something tugged at my waist.

"Why have you tied me to a trolley?" I asked desperately.

"Well," He replied, calmly lashing the suitcases in front of me. "I knew you would never agree to running, and the truth is, I haven't _really_ got enough arms…"

My eyes widened. "Oh no way. _No_ way."

"Yes way."

"You are not taking me cross country in a trolley while you push it at a supersonic – _ahhh_!"

For we had shot off into the forest, and I squeezed my eyes shut before I could get sick. I hated him. I hated him I hated him I hated him.

"_Jasper_!" I garbled, teeth crashing together as we bounced. His laughter was completely reckless as he continued, and we made it to Forks in less than a quarter of an hour.

"That counts as battery, you know," I said as he untied me.

"Not if you enjoyed it."

"I _didn't_."

We walked (he walked, _I_ hobbled) up the long drive which led to the house. When we entered, me flicking the lights, it was in semi darkness, so I could assume that we were not expected and that a hunting trip had been taken by all.

"Why don't you go?" I inquired. "Catch them up. Your eyes are so dark…"

He flicked them upwards, the action speaking louder than words. "And can I trust you not to wreak havoc while I'm gone?"

"This from the guy who steals trolleys from airports."

He laughed and kissed my forehead. "I'll send the first available person back. I don't trust you on your own."

I stuck my tongue out at his retreating back and he turned, grinning. I froze.

"Do you have eyes in the back of your head?" I demanded, aghast.

"No. I just forgot something." And he made his way back across the room and kissed me until I was gasping. "That," He said, leaning his forehead against mine. "Was for the trolley. Now go and do some knitting or something."

I made my way upstairs once he'd gone, trailing my fingers over the light wood of the staircase and the paneling. It was satin smooth beneath my fingertips, all marks of coarseness rubbed away. _By the years_? I wondered. _Or by the occupants_? Occupants who considered _me_ capable of knitting...

I sat in Jasper's (our, our!) room for a long time, listening to the drumming of the rain on the roof, and wondering who would be coming back to babysit me. I wrinkled my nose at the idea. Then something hit the glass wall. _Hard_.

Naturally, I screamed.

A few minutes later, the noise came again. And again. When it happened a fourth time, I got up and inched open the wide window, careful not to let any of the buffeting rain in. My human eyes could not cut through the darkness as a vampire's could; it took me several minutes to see the shape on the lawn, and even less for my blood to run cold as ice, freezing in my veins.

A dark figure crouched on the grass, its shape almost completely shrouded by the rain. I couldn't tell if it was human or (as I checked the sill) why it had been throwing stones at me.

Then the creature lifted its face to look at me, and I clapped a hand over my mouth.

* * *

_**Muhahaha! A cliffy! I'm getting **_**good_ at these. No, I will not tell you what's going to happen, yes, I am evil and no, I am NOT swayed by COOKIES!  
*laughs maniacally while running away from angry mob with pitchforks*_**


	10. Hate That I Love You

_**Hmmm…I don't think I've ever had quite so many guesses at plot lines before. And congrats to Jaina 12 and 'me', who got it right…though probably not in the way they expected *laughs evilly*  
No, , it is not the monkey man. Shame though.  
Thank you to tiny-irritating-pixie for sending Felix and Demetri after me. The doctors inform me the bandages should be off soon.**_

* * *

**9. Hate That I Love You**

"Quil?" I gasped. I had seen neither hide nor hair (ha ha) of any of the La Push pack since my reunion with Jasper. The choice was not mine – every time I had chanced a visit, the village had been eerily empty, though I was all too aware of the many pairs of eyes tracking my progress.

With that in mind, I hadn't even bothered picking up the phone.

"Why haven't you returned my calls?" Quil demanded. I blinked in surprise.

"You haven't called me!"

"I have!" He said firmly, scowling up at me. "At least ten times. _And_ I left a bunch of messages on your voicemail, too."

I extricated my cell phone from the pocket of my jeans and examined the screen. The message icon wasn't illuminated.

"Nope. I haven't got anything."

"Hold on." He too pulled a battered cell from his jacket pocket, dialing my number with a dexterous ease which belied the lack of contact between us. My phone didn't even twitch in response.

I frowned, entering my phonebook and scrolling down until I found his number. When I selected properties, I almost crushed the phone in my fist. The rage left a red haze over my eyes and a sour taste in my mouth as I fought for control.

"I spoke to your bloodsucker a couple of times," Quil offered, though I could barely hear him over the roaring in my ears. "He said you were out, but he'd get you to call me. And I came over when you didn't call, but the doctor said you weren't here."

I gritted my teeth, practically snarling. "He _blocked_ your number. He took me on _holiday_. He never told me _anything_."

Quil swore once, violently. The dirty word made me feel slightly better about my own barely concealed anger.

"So what's it gonna be, Alice? Are you gonna go along with this whole 'kept woman' thing?"

I didn't answer, though my nails gouged into the window sill.

"_My_ Alice had fire in her belly. How about you?"

"Can you catch me without damaging yourself?" I asked abruptly, ignoring the wide grin that spread across his face at the question.

"Hell yeah."

"Well then," I replied, hitching myself onto the sill and praying that the rain wouldn't be too cold. "Catch."

* * *

We ended up where we always did – on First Beach, walking in an endless line like hand in hand sentinels from one horizon to the other.

"By the way," I said casually, breaking several minutes of silence. "I never did thank you for saving me."

Quil rubbed the back of his neck, seemingly embarrassed. "Don't worry about it."

"Honestly, it was like hell on earth out there – thank you."

"Are you very angry with him?" He asked suddenly. My mellow mood vanished.

"Yes."

"Angry enough not to go back?"

I considered for a moment. "I doubt I'd ever be _that_ angry."

"Why?"

"Quil," I said stopping in my tracks. "I _love_ him. I hate the fact that it's too strong – too unpredictable – too overwhelming - and that neither of us ever had a chance to think about it. But he's my other half; the piece that was missing." I turned a sad smile on him. "And one day, I hope you'll have that too."

He turned his head and looked out at the misty violet of the ocean. "Do you kiss him?"

"Yes."

My one word answer seemed unsatisfactory to him, somehow, after my earlier verboseness.

"I love you both," I ventured, tentatively. "Isn't that enough?"

"No." His tone was like a spoiled child. "You don't love me like you love him."

"No," I conceded. "But I love you, all the same."

He sighed. "Just not enough."

"I know." I leaned my head against his arm, grateful for the heat as the spray whipped our faces.

"One of these days," He warned. "You're going to have to choose."

"I know," I repeated, dully. "But right now, you're all I've got. So let's just have _that_ for a while."

We stayed there for a long time, as my thoughts turned inwards. Why was I being so selfish? Why did I still spend time with Quil, leading him on? Why couldn't I love someone even _vaguely_ normal like him, rather than someone I had absolutely no chance of a normal life with?

We had never spoken about the kiss we had shared before I made my way to the Cullen house, and thence on to the cliff. I had screamed at him, railed at him, used him as an emotional punch bag for all the hurt and pain I was feeling.

I didn't deserve either of them.

Suddenly, a roar rent the air, splitting it from sky to sea as echoes bounced off the high cliffs and the choppy surface of the waves. It was so loud that I couldn't distinguish the individual words; it was just one immense howl.

Quil winced. "I think you're being summoned."

I felt my face blanch. "You don't mean – "

"Oh yes."

"_ALICE_!" I could hear my name now that I understood, and I shivered at the thought of what was coming. Then I squared my shoulders. Me? Fear him?

Never.

"Why can't he just come and get me?" I yelled over the noise.

"We made a treaty!" Quil hollered. "A long way back – they don't come on our land, we don't tell you about them!"

"Defunct in my case, then?"

"Yes!"

* * *

I sprinted towards what Quil had pointed out as the 'boundary line', waving my arms like someone directing traffic. "Alright!" I bellowed. "I'm here!"

The waves of sound stopped as I continued forward, my hands balling into fists as my teeth clenched I smacked the last branch out of my way savagely and flung myself into the open.

Jasper's face was whiter than bone; his eyes deep, obsidian pits. I felt a surge of pity as I realized that turning away from the hunt had worsened his condition. It didn't last long, however, before rage flooded me once again – boiling water filling me from top to toe with trembling rage.

"Are you _insane_?" He asked, and I was surprised to hear that his voice was cracked. "Do you have any idea how much you scared me?"

"How much I scared _you_?" I mocked. "You effectively kidnapped me. You blocked my calls, and vetted who I did and didn't see – you had no right!"

His face was so surprised it was almost comical. "How did you – "

"Quil came and got me." I gazed straight back into his dark gaze. "How could you?"

"It was for us."

"For us?" I threw back my head and laughed. "You're so unsure of me that you have to eliminate all my other options? When have I ever given you cause to doubt me?"

He didn't answer.

"I _love_ you," I choked, still laughing, though it sounded oddly hollow, like sobs. "I love you so much I can barely breathe! It hurts! It burns! It's the complete center of my universe! But right now – " I eyed him squarely. "Right now, it's a fight to even look at you. But you want me back? Fine."

I dug in my pocket, locating the cold rectangle of my cell. I tossed it across the space between us.

"Call somebody and ask them to come and pick me up. Because there is _no way_ that I am going anywhere with _you_."

I turned my back as he made the call; the tempo of his words a soothing staccato despite my emotions.

Facing the forest, he couldn't see the tears as they ran down my face, watermarking my collar as they trickled off the end of my chin.

In this world I had made for myself, I was entirely alone.


	11. Close & Closeted

**_Happy Valentine's Day! I've spent the day eating chocolate and watching Bridget Jones's Diary (which I _love_) and Coyote Ugly (to which I sing along, standing on the older of our two sofas).  
God - today would be the date of the first chapter release, and here we are at number ten! But anyhoo...for a suitably angsty chapter, I think you'll find it very...interesting.  
Enjoy.  
_

* * *

10.**** Close & Closeted**

As we drove back, I knew Rosalie was simultaneously blaming and punishing me for her twin's pain – and I also knew he hadn't divulged the details to her. It came from the way she would dart enraged looks at me, punctuating her anger with baffled, almost questioning glances.

My initial joy at being in the glossy red convertible abated as the weight of alienation hit me.

In all our time together we'd had some kind of connection – either actual or imagined. Now that I had severed that line myself, I felt utterly alone. Fear and resentment flowed freely through my veins, the kiss of ice and inferno scorching my blood.

They seemed to radiate from me, filling the fashionable, low slung car with thrumming tension. I regretted it, fearing a rift with Rosalie over my fight with her brother. I worried too about the permanence of my decision and found that I was wondering, not whether _I_ would grant him forgiveness – but whether he would forgive me.

Inexcusable, unbelievable thoughts.

"My_ Alice had fire in her belly. How about you?"_

Quil's Alice, Jasper's Alice. Mike's Alice and Tyler's Alice and my parents' Alice. It was like doing a jigsaw – only the pieces wouldn't fit. How had I managed to make myself into so many people? Was it simply that each preferred different facets of my character? Or was it something else, something more deep rooted?

Was it my fault?

The questions chased one another round and around in my head, tearing my emotions to shreds. By the time we drew up outside the big house, I was close to tears. My insides felt like they'd been scrubbed out with steel wool.

The house seemed more like a lair for vampires than ever before as I walked through it; silent as a tomb. My eyes stung.

"Alice?"

I refused to turn back, refused to acknowledge his presence.

"Alice, please."

"_Please_?!" I hissed, turning as my vision blurred. "Traitor! Judas! Defector, deserter, snake!"

"I don't deserve this." His eyes flamed. "What I did was so that you didn't get hurt. I've seen what happens when a human is torn between – "

"I can't believe," I continued, ignoring him. "That you could be so arrogant, conceited, self centered – "

"Alice – "

"Conniving, deceitful, authoritarian – "

"Alice – "

"Overbearing, heavy handed and – "

"_ALICE_!" He bellowed. The sheer amplitude of the sound made me stop still in my tracks, dazed; he took the opportunity to seize my elbow and spin me into a nearby cupboard.

"Jasper," I said politely, looking around. "We are in…a closet."

"I know," He replied, raking a hand through his hair. "Now will you listen?"

I knew the question was rhetorical but still I mused, winding a strand of hair around one finger as he became more and more agitated.

"Do I have any choice?" I asked, finally.

"No."

"Fine." I folded my arms and leaned against what appeared to be a vacuum cleaner, though in the gloom it could've been Esme's broomstick.

"Firstly," He said. "That was intolerable of me, and I'd like to apologize."

I was taken aback. "Um…okay…"

"And secondly, I'd like to rescind my apology, because I did what I did for the best of reasons."

My temper flared and I stamped hard on the vacuum cleaner/broomstick. "What reasons? All I can see is you being obsessively overprotective! They're my friends, Jasper – they won't hurt me!"

I could see the whites of his eyes as they rolled dramatically, even in the dark. "You think _that's_ why I blocked your calls? Are you blind?"

"What are you talking about?" I demanded.

Jasper smacked his hand against a section of paneling, which cracked in a shower of splinters. "He's in love with you! Quil Ateara is in love with you!"

"He has a little crush on me, that's all, and – "

"But don't you see? He really does _love_ you. It's not a crush; it's not a flight of fancy." His voice became bitter. "And I've just played right into his hands."

"How so?"

"Well…you hate me now, don't you?"

I inhaled swiftly in a sharp gasp of shock, reaching for his cold hand in the darkness. "I could _never_ hate you," I vowed. "I don't _like_ you, when you try to run my life, and I don't _enjoy_ it when you act like I'm so breakable and whatever. But _never_ – " I went on, sandwiching his hand between mine. "Could I_ hate_ you."

"Then you might consider…_not_ leaving me, for a werewolf."

"I might."

"And you might consider being in the same room as me again?"

"I think I've already proved that."

"And you might consider – " He took a deep breath. "Agreeingtomarryme?"

"Sure," I nodded.

No. Wait.

No.

No no no no no no no!

"I take that back!" I said shrilly. "There's no way in – "

"Alice, Alice, Alice," He sighed, lifting me effortlessly from the floor with one hand. "Did you _really_ think that you had any choice in the matter? Because you know I _would_ marry you, no matter what you said. I'd just prefer it if you didn't have to be bound and gagged for the ceremony."

"I'm eighteen," I moaned, burrowing into his stone neck. "I'm not ready for this."

"Like I said," He replied. "We can get married in Vegas, wearing hypothetical jeans if it makes you happy."

"You have to make me a deal," I breathed.

"And the deal is…"

"Giant hormone bag, remember? And before, not after – I'd rather not have to pass a year of apparent carnage first."

Jasper's cold breath tickled my neck. "Do you really trust me that much?"

"I do."

He laughed. "Then I get _my_ wedding. You turn up on the day, jean-less, just say 'I do' again…and I'll think about it."

I pouted. "You have to promise."

"Okay," He said, gently lowering me to the ground. "If you, Alice Mary Brandon, turn up on a day of my choosing at a venue of my choice, wearing something eminently suitable and marry me with no complaints…then I, Jasper Whitlock Hale, will do whatever your hormones require of me."

"Pre-vampirism?" I stipulated, stretching up on my toes for his lips in the dark.

He gave a little laugh as he bent his head. "It's a risk, but…pre-vampirism."

* * *

_**How d'you like **_**them_ apples?_**


	12. Take A Chance On Me

**_Dirty Dancing - best. Film. Ever.  
Hungry Eyes - best. Song. Ever.  
If you don't know it, go and listen to the The Charlie Daniels Band's 'The Devil Went Down To Georgia'. I was line dancing in the tub for half an hour. True blue.  
Enjoy.  
_

* * *

11. ****Take A Chance On Me**

"I can't believe," I said, flopping back on the bed. "That it's been a _week_ already."

"I know," Jasper replied, running his fingers along my ringless one. I groaned, rolling over and away from him. I tucked my knees up against my chest and surveyed the midnight blue walls. "No ring! No ring!" I insisted. "And no more trying to seduce me in the hope that it will speed up the wedding."

He growled quietly, moving so that his long frame was curled around my smaller one. He wrapped his arms around my waist in a grasp of steel, clasping his hands together.

"If we're doing it _my_ way," He reminded me, his voice a teasing purr. "Then – "

"Speaking of deals," I cut in. "If you throw your weight around _any_ more, I am not having sex with you. Ever. And don't pretend that wouldn't bother you."

He had the ace in hole, though – in fact, knowing Jasper, he probably had the whole deck up his sleeve. "So. When are you going to tell your parents?"

I turned my face into the mattress and briefly considered suffocation. However, I knew that such a trivial thing as death wouldn't get me out of my responsibilities.

He knew it too.

"Do I have to?" I mumbled.

He poked me in the small of the back. "Yes. Soon. Which reminds me, Rosalie has some invitation samples and calligraphy she wants you to go over with her later."

I harrumphed loudly into the fabric. "You know that time when I used to hate you? Well, I really wish I still did. I hate being a _fiancée_ all of a sudden."

A little shiver ran through me as Jasper placed his lips on the back of my neck, lifting the little of my hair that was required out of the way. "But you _have_ made me very happy," He murmured. "That has to count for something."

I closed my eyes. "That counts for _everything_."

* * *

"Hello? Earth to Alice?"

I blinked, startled, to find Rosalie a few inches from my face, waving a sheet of embossed notepaper in front of my face.

"What do you think of lavender?" She barked.

I shrank down in my seat. "Um…I'm not a big fan of – "

"Teal?"

"Teal doesn't really – "

"Tangerine?"

I hunted through the pile of thin tissue paper sheets and stiff cardboard oblongs, looking for anything vaguely acceptable among the _frilly_, _fluffy_ samples heaped in front of me.

"How about this one?"

Rosalie took the card from me, looking at it critically. "I don't know, Alice…green is a very ill fated color…"

"You're not supposed to wear it on stage," Emmett pointed out helpfully as he passed.

I narrowed my eyes. "This has significance for me."

"But _green_? Forest _green_?"

"Yes," I said boldly. "And I don't want a really fancy typeface, just something attractive. In silver."

"O…kay." She made a note on her clipboard (she had taken to carrying one around ever since Edward had picked Jasper's wedding plans from his brain). "Next I'm thinking floral arrangements. I know roses are – "

"You promised me cake after the invites," I accused.

"Very traditional, but they're always – "

"Rosalie. Cake."

"Lovely. I hear orchids are making a revival, so maybe – "

I gritted my teeth. "Rosalie. I want my cake."

She paused, mid sentence. "Alice – this is very important. Surely the cake tasting can wait until after – "

"Rosalie. Cake. Now."

"But I – "

"_Now_."

She scowled, shifting the invite samples into one pile and paper weighting it. "I thought we'd try the violet chocolate one first, and then maybe the lemon mousse, but sans that ganache, because I don't like the color with my dress, and…"

Her monologue continued as she headed out to the kitchen, and I put my head in my hands.

"Problem?"

I looked up to see Bella sliding into the seat opposite me. Her hair looked especially pretty today – pulled back from her face and fastened with a few swirly grips.

I sighed. "I'm good. We went with green in the end."

She looked shocked. "Alice, you hate green."

"No," I corrected. "I _used_ to dislike _Forks_' green. I'm fine with green in general."

"Oh." She curled her long fingers into fists. "Are you getting any input into your dress?"

I nodded, jaw set. "It took an _awful_ lot of persuasion, let me tell you. I may have accidentally given Rosalie your Ferrari."

She smiled, blasé. "That's okay. I hate that car."

My mind boggled at the thought of anyone who could _not_ like that car.

"Anyway," She continued. "All of Rose's cars are red, so at least that one'll blend in. What are you thinking dress wise?"

"First of all, she thought quite traditional." Her smile broadened. "But then I reminded her that we weren't exactly the most traditional couple, so we decided to scrap the sleeves, cut the train down, take away the – " I shuddered. "Veil. Ick. I want to strip off the beading and lace and add some boning in the bodice, and – "

"Whoa. You're planning _all_ that?"

I grinned. "Yes sir."

Rosalie re-entered, balancing two bowls on her outstretched palms.

"Violet chocolate," She informed me, depositing what looked like an entire hillock made of frosting and dotted with sugar flowers in front of me.

"And lemon mousse." The second was a pale gold, swirled with crescents of sticky yellow curd and white sugar.

"Wow," I marveled. "Who made these?"

Rosalie dimpled. "Me, Esme – Jasper was our 'you' expert."

"Which means?"

"We had to bring him all the samples," She explained. "And he would tell us which flavors you did and didn't like, which colors you'd prefer, which – "

"Hold on, hold on," I interrupted. "Exactly how many cakes have you made?"

"I don't know, Alice," She admitted. "We filled the deep freeze so – "

"So if they're frozen…how long ago did you make them?"

She looked down, examining her stilettos (Prada, I noted with relish). She continued to stare at the glossy brown crocodile skin for a long time. "Um…the day after you…moved in."

"You were really _that_ sure I was going to say yes?" I asked skeptically.

She raised her head and gave me a steely look. "Were you planning on saying no?"


	13. Bénédiction d’Amour

**_I just made brownies for the first time ever (them not being a very stereotypically British dish). They taste very yummy. I'm going to go and have a hot bubble bath, and eat my brownies.  
And for those of you who have asked about my overly eclectic music taste - I have 112 songs on my mp3 player at the moment. The most I have by one artist is three, by Linkin Park. That shows you just how varied I am.  
Oh, BTW - The title means 'agreement of love'. I've decided they'll be a chapter in Memento Mori with a Spanish title - as Spanish and French are my second and third languages (as well as a little Japanese, Italian, Tamil, Arabic, Hindi and Dutch, all of which I speak a fe words, very, very badly).  
That chapter will probably be called 'El Diablo En Mi Corazón' - the devil in my heart.  
Peace out.  
_

* * *

12. Bénédiction d'Amour**

"Next week, I promise…"

"Wrong answer."

"Go _away_."

"Nope."

"Tomorrow?"

His lips moved to my neck. "Getting warmer…"

I groaned, giving him a half hearted shove. "Why don't you just go and sit in a bread oven? No more seducing, remember?"

He laughed. "I believe seducing involves a desire to get into your pants. Now, seeing as that desire is on a back burner for now, all I'm asking you to do is call your mother. And – " He added, tracing tiny circles along my collarbone with his fingertips. "If I was not accustomed to it, that oven comment would have stung very much."

"I'll become a nun," I promised. "I'll get pet cats, and go and live in a convent with other nuns."

He shook his head. "Alice, Alice, Alice. Are we forgetting that I am, at the very _least_, over a hundred times stronger than you at your _best_? I have promised never to hurt you – " His eyes glittered. "But I could think of some _very_ interesting things that only require an aspiration for spontaneous combustion…"

"Alright!" I pushed him again, and this time he moved, though my efforts were like shoving against masonry. "I'll call her, okay! You happy?"

"Are _you_?"

"No," I grumbled. "What mother in the world wants to hear that her eighteen year old's getting married?"

"Esme was pretty thrilled when her _seventeen_ year old got married."

I glared at him. "Edward does not count. He is seventeen forever. You, however," I gave him a passing elbow as I got up. "Are _twenty_ forever. Couldn't we wait a year or two?"

"Your birthday is in a month," He pointed out.

"Oh. Okay. Then I have another request to add to the list."

He heaved a great sigh, sprawling dramatically on the bed. "What _now_? You already have me as your love slave for all eternity."

"And you have the wedding date, the wedding venue, the pastor, the guests, the songs – "

"Okay, point taken." He curled an arm around my waist, pulling me away from the door. "Stay a while."

"Nuh-uh." I unwound from his steely embrace. "You are a bad, blackmailing vampire and I am going to call my mother and explain all that to her."

"You do that." He seemed genuinely amused; his golden eyes twinkling. "And at the same time, I'll tell her that one of the stipulations in our marriage contract was 'pre-vampirism' sex."

"She'll be thrilled," I said sourly. "And anyway – I hate you."

"I love you too," He called as I stomped out into the hall, heading for one of the slightly less conspicuous phones that were dotted around the house.

* * *

On entering the garage, I found Rosalie.

"Oh," I said, stopping in my tracks. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you were in here."

"It's okay," She smiled. "Come on in."

I gestured to the phone set discreetly in a narrow alcove. "Is it alright if I call my mom in here? I have to tell her the news."

She winced. "Good luck."

I ran a hand through my hair. "I need it."

* * *

"Alice? Honey?"

"Yeah, ma. It's me."

"Oh, Alice!" She gushed. "I'm so _pleased_ to hear your voice! We haven't seen or spoken to you for at least two weeks! What _have_ you been doing with yourself?"

"Um…" I twirled the phone cord around my finger. "Nothing much. Jasper and I went to Texas for a week or so, and then – "

"Texas! Oh, baby! Do you have a tan? Did you get to see the Rangers? They have to be better than the Mariners, at any rate – did you know they lost their last game to – "

"Mom!" I said loudly, effectively cutting off her stream of chatter. "I have something to tell you. And _no_, before you ask, I am not pregnant. And _no_, before the next question kicks in, Jasper and I are not being safe, because we aren't actually doing anything."

More's the pity.

She sounded a little deflated. "So what is it then, honey?"

I took a deep breath. "Mom – Jasper and I are getting married."

I heard my mother gasp, and then a loud clunk.

"Honey," My dad said into the phone. "Mommy's just fainted. What did you say to her?"

"Um…" Another deep breath in, and – "I told her that Jasper and I are getting married."

"Oh, that's lovely, Alice. Have you thought of any dates yet?"

"Dad!" I yelled. "You're supposed to forbid me from doing this, or come over here with a shotgun, or something!"

His voice was puzzled. "Do you want me to?"

"No, dad! I do not want you to shoot my boyfriend – fiancé – whatever – or his parents. Or his siblings, for that matter."

Rosalie beamed up at me from where she was doing something intricate with two lengths of wire, a sheet of metal and a tiny soldering iron. I scribbled something on the pad by the phone and presented it to her.

"Oh, sure Alice, I'll take a look at your Porsche for you."

I focused on the gorgeous butter yellow clarity of my car's paintwork while I continued talking to my dad. "You mother's just coming round, Alice," My dad informed me. "And I think she wants to – "

"Alice Mary Brandon!" My mother screamed down the phone and right into my shocked ear. "My Alice! Getting married! And to Jasper Hale!" I could practically hear her crossing herself. "Oh, I must be the luckiest mother ever!"

Sometimes I wondered how my mother and I could come from the same gene pool.

"Do you have a ring?" She demanded to know. "How big is it? Can I see it?"

"No," I muttered, picking at a flake of nail polish. "He wanted to give me one, but I refused."

"_Refused_?!" My mother shrieked. "Alice, baby. When a man offers you jewelry – and believe you me, those opportunities are few and far between – then you grab it with both hands! You don't know when the next chance might come around! Engaged! And without an engagement ring. Let me talk to him, I'm sure that – "

"You can't," I said quickly. "He's – he's – um – "

Rosalie mimed mixing.

"Mixing cement!" I said triumphantly, and my future sister-in-law put her head in her hands. "Yeah, that's what he's doing."

"Mixing cement?" My mother sounded skeptical. "Well, what in heaven's name is he doing that for?"

I looked desperately at Rosalie, but she just folded her arms and gave me a look that said: _You had your chance. Mixing cement indeed_.

"They're building a new…fake bolder." I replied weakly. "You know, with an estate as big as the Cullens', you can never have too many…fake boulders."

"If you say so, honey," My mom answered. Her voice was far away as she obviously tried to fathom why anyone in their right mind would want or _need_ a fake boulder.

"Patch her through to Esme," Rosalie mouthed. She pulled out her cell and began talking so fast that her lips blurred. The phone in my hand beeped.

"Mom, how about I patch you through to Esme? Then you two can thrash it out over the details."

"If you're sure than I can't just borrow Jasper for a minute – "

I pressed the button, and waited until the conversation had gotten to a good level before quietly putting the phone down and sagging against the wall of the garage.


	14. I Will Go Down With This Ship

**_Thirteen by name, thirteen by nature, I'm afraid - as well as this chapter being chocka with angst, my computer chair decided to buckle under me (no weight comments - I'm about 115, I think), and I smashed my desk with my feet. I'm fine, thank goodness, but my mum's on the warpath and wants to sue, which should be funny.  
But this chapter luckily survived the falling desk pulling the plug out, so we're good. On with the show!  
As to all the negative feedback I've had - ALICE WILL BLOODY ENJOY THE WEDDING! STOP BEING SO BLOODY IMPATIENT!  
If you had to tell the best friend who loved you that you'd picked a dead guy over him, you'd probably be a stick in the mud too.  
_

* * *

13. ****I Will Go Down With This Ship**

In spite of myself, I began to enjoy the preparations which were going into this grand shindig of Jasper's. That was how I referred to it, of course – others preferred the more conventional 'your wedding'. However, not all of my earlier misery had abated.

My conscience reminded that I had one more duty to discharge; and it was the one which would hurt the most.

The sunlight was watery but clear as I got into my battered old red truck for the first time in weeks and drove down to La Push. I'd chosen that day specifically – none of my future in-laws would be able to come after me, even if they wanted to.

The air smelt of summer; warm for once, and crisp. Summers didn't last long in the Olympic Peninsula and, as we drew toward the end of the August, this one seemed to be on its way out.

I shivered slightly, remembering my last trip to the beachside village.

My phone buzzed once and in spite of myself, I checked the ID. The color screen proudly announced 'Jasper Hale calling'. I gritted my teeth and pressed the red button – but hey, I was driving! He could hardly blame me if I didn't feel like ending the day in a ditch.

The phone did some more buzzing as I made the short trip, but I ignored it; instead focusing on my objective, while contradictorily trying to make myself as distant from it as possible.

Calm, cool and collected.

_Calm_, _cool_, _and_ _collected_.

I parked up in front of the general store and burst into tears.

* * *

Emily Young sat me firmly at her kitchen table, the rolled up sleeves of her shirt parading her heavily scarred forearms. She fetched me a cup of coffee, which I drank gratefully, trying to gulp back yet more tears.

"Sam's better to talk to you than I am," She told me, her voice a low, soothing burr. "I wouldn't ask Leah. After all, the poor girl's been on the receiving end once."

"I forgot," I said hoarsely. "It'll be you and Sam soon."

"Yes." A brief smile lit her mangled features. "Though at this rate, it seems like you'll be beating me up the aisle!"

My answering grin was no longer in life than hers, and just as weak as the fragile rays of Forks' summer sunshine.

"Procrastinating will just make it worse," She advised.

I nodded. I'd already been told.

"Do you want me to get him over here?"

I shook my head, casting a glance around the small but overwhelmingly cheerful room. "No. I don't want to have bad memories of this kitchen."

"Where then?"

I swallowed the big lump of sobs which was fighting to be out in the open. "First Beach." I raised my chin a fraction. "It seems oddly appropriate."

Emily nodded. "First for a lot of things, so it seems. I'll give you a few minutes head start, but I can't guarantee that he won't catch you up. We Quileutes aren't known for our patience."

I squeezed her hand as I got up. "You seem to be a pretty stellar example, Emily. And thank you."

She brushed my gratitude aside with the wave of one hand, leaning down to smoothly kiss my forehead.

"I wish you happiness, Alice. I don't know if this is the last time I'll see you, so…" She scrutinized me as she had many times before. "I think after all that you've been through – at least while I've known you – that you deserve happiness." Her teeth gleamed in another quick smile. "For a vamp wannabe, that is."

I flung my arms around her neck and tried not to let the last of my tears escape. "You'll come to wedding, right?" She stiffened.

"Please?" I begged, hanging on to her. "Please please please please please just _come_…"

She gave me a small push. "Alright! I'll come. But I think you should run." Her free hand reached for the phone, and I bolted from the room.

* * *

I walked First Beach like a martyr preparing for the stake, already aware of the irony of that fact. I deserved to be burnt for the punishment I was about to exact. At least I was safe in the knowledge that I only did this because I knew had to.

Business, not pleasure.

"Alice?"

I jumped about a foot in the air (quite a considerable height, when you've got less than five of them), but still I turned slowly to face Quil, unwilling to meet the accusation in his eyes. I wasn't sure how much Emily had told him. But he touched me lightly on the shoulder, and I couldn't avoid turning then.

I narrowly avoided turning right into him, unaware of how close he actually was.

"Hey," I said, shakily.

"Em said you had something to tell me?"

Em? I almost laughed out loud. The most interesting things you discover about places and people are always when you're on the verge of leaving them.

"Yeah," I said bleakly, gesturing to one of the driftwood trees backed up against the water's edge – at high tide, it would be at least part submerged. "Have a seat."

Quil sat, but pulled me down next to him. That just made everything so much worse. I began to pick at the cuticle on my left thumb, paying no heed to the resultant little stabs of pain.

"So?" He prompted.

I focused on my rapidly fraying skin. "It's kind of hard to put into words."

"So begin at the beginning."

Blood was beginning to well at the base of my nail, and it hurt like a sumbitch. "Well, after I left you…I went back with Jasper…"

"And chewed him out about treating you like a pet, no doubt."

I swallowed. "Yes, that, but…we made a deal."

"A deal?" The timbre of his calm voice roughened a little at the phrase. "What kind of deal?"

I bit the bullet. "Marriage."

The bullet turned out to be a nuclear warhead.

"_Marriage_?!" Quil snarled, rising from the tree with such force that the bleached wood splintered a little. "When you were mad enough to spit teeth? When you'd finally realized that he was treating you like a… like a…"

"Like a _what_?" I spat, leaping to my feet too. "He never _kissed_ me without my permission! He never tried to…to _seduce_ me, when I was still sick over someone else! He never told me to jump out of windows, or run away from the people who love me! He – "

"He _what_?" Quil's entire frame was vibrating, and his voice was a genuine roar now. "I put you back _together_! I helped you, when no one else could, because you were stupid enough to shack up with someone who didn't want you for any reason other than your _blood_!"

I couldn't resist the urge. I slapped him, and the bones in my hand shattered.

The pain was excruciating – and I was so physically unready for it that I barely even had time to register the shock on Quil's face before I passed from light into shadow.


	15. Bittersweet And Strange

**_You wanted it - you got it. Chapter 14 is from Jasper's POV. And yes, I know there's been a jump from the last chapter to this one - all will be explained in time.  
Enjoy.  
_

* * *

14. Bittersweet And Strange**

Sometimes, having a telepath in the family is more of an asset than a liability. Before I'd even got down the stairs, I could see that Edward's face was set as carefree and smug as a cat's.

"You're not coming with us, are you?"

I shook my head.

He smiled sardonically. "O brother, where art thou?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Hey, blame yourself. If you hadn't noticed, I'm following in your footsteps, _little_ brother. Without you, I – " I broke off to run a hand through my hair, pondering the possibly over sentimental language I was about to use. "I wouldn't have dared. I wouldn't have even dared to _hope_."

The self satisfaction dropped from Edward's face as he absorbed my thanks. Sincere gratitude was not usually my top priority.

However, his earlier smile returned as a new thought occurred to him. "Don't forget the golden rule, Jazz."

How could I, when Rosalie had drummed it into me with her steel plated manicure?

_Yeah yeah_, I thought, too exasperated for speech. _It's bad luck for the groom to see the bride_ –

"On the day of the wedding," Edward completed smoothly. "I wasn't allowed to skip my bachelor party, remember? You're lucky Emmett isn't here yet, or he'd teach _you_ to be a little brother."

I snorted. "Emmett fights like a newborn. I didn't survive all those years with Maria through sheer dumb luck, you know."

Edward's face clouded. "You don't think she'll make an appearance?"

"No," I stated firmly, putting great faith in the word. "I think she knows by now that if she touched one hair on Alice's head, she herself would have no head to have hair on."

"She was very surprised, though," My brother commented. "At how close we were to Alice. I suppose she expected you to have regaled us with tales of the great passion between you two over the years."

The image sent a shiver through me. "Her dream, _my_ nightmare. And speaking of dreams…"

"You have some spying to do. Yes, I know." Edward crossed his ankles and leaned back in his chair. "I'm sure Emmett and I won't find it _too_ difficult to hunt without you."

"Well – " I widened my eyes so he could see their color – the lightest they had ever been, to my knowledge. "I've made it slightly easier for you. I'll see you in the morning."

"Happy watching," He called as I headed for the staircase.

"Happy hunting," I replied.

* * *

The room which had been mine was silver in the rays of a pocked moon. The whole surface, perforated and cratered, seemed to blaze with white fire. The sight was unearthly, too exquisite for description; gilding the porcelain features of the girl lying, fast asleep, in the broad expanse of bed.

Years of military alertness had never left me – even now I performed a perfunctory sweep of the room, searching for anything untoward. I bit back a chuckle, recalling earlier excursions where my subject had been equally unaware of my presence.

* * *

The girl.

The girl.

I gritted my teeth. Oh yes, the girl.

Only Edward had known where I was going – only he could pluck the details from my mind. Only he was surprised and shocked by my decision, a decision I had taken in spite of myself.

It was plain curiosity, I told myself. I had touched her hand that day; she might have guessed something was amiss. I _needed_ to check up on her.

Her room smelt faintly of apple, a contrast to the cloying celebrity perfume I had expected of a girl from the big city. The wick of the round red candle was still burning, and I snuffed it, shocked. Did she not understand the dangers of an unattended flame?

Alice Mary Brandon, born September 13th, 1990, Phoenix, Arizona. I had got that straight from the student file on her, and I had not been the first to go investigating. Mike Newton had been holed up in a corner of the library, reading voraciously.

She lay in a narrow bed which didn't look like it could take even her insubstantial mass, breathing evenly. The coverlet was peacock blue stitched with silver swirls and mirror work, another revelation.

The pillow beneath her cheek was white, however, and with alarm I noted that her face was too. Was she ill? Had I, in opening the window, inadvertently let in some quick acting pathogen?

But no – my worries were dispelled when I noticed the faint smudge of peach beneath her cheek, the skin tone of an ordinary human. Was she ashamed of her ivory complexion? I thought her the prettier for it; the way her delicate cheekbones were highlighted and her long black lashes provided contrast against that snow white skin, almost as pale as mine...

I had to mentally shake myself. She was asleep. She didn't look worried, or stressed…

I didn't even order my legs to move, but I found myself beside the bed, looking down at her sleeping face. She looked so unguarded, all the sarcasm and cynicism lost in the innocence of slumber. I thought of Ferrara's last duchess, and cursed myself for a sentimental fool – paint could never hope to reproduce the faint half flush which died along her throat.

What was the matter with me?

I saw with a pang that the soft tissue of her eyelids was swollen. Had she been crying? Why had she cried? Who had made her cry? Ire rose within me and I wished the culprit dead, smashed to a million pieces with my own hands.

What if the culprit was me?

To distract myself from the horror of that thought, I inspected her room. The floors were light wood, the walls pale blue – nothing as dramatic or vivacious as the room's occupant. A shiny red iPod rested in its cradle, the screen idly flicking through titles as it charged. Her music taste was not as I expected either. Kat DeLuna – Linkin Park – Within Temptation – Of A Revolution – so much variety from one single person! How could her preferences encompass so many genres? Where was the Hannah Montana, the Jonas Brothers?

Why did the girl refuse to conform?

She shifted then, her lips parting slightly. They continued to move, uttering soft comments and remonstrations. Then she halted, drawing in a long breath. Silence reigned supreme for another few minutes.

"Jasper…"

I shot bolt upright and away from her, feeling as if an electric current had just passed through me. How did she know I was there, could she see me? Could she _smell_ me?

"Jasper…Hale…"

Then I realized.

Alice talked in her sleep.

Intrigued by that astonishing development, I watched the movement of her lips some more. It looked like she bit them; one tiny strip was raised and purple. Was it a nervous trait, or just a habitual one?

* * *

The laughter I had been holding back escaped then, easing me into the present. I had been in reverie too long. The clock told me that my time was up, and that I would be breaking sacred creed if I stayed any longer.

Alice Mary Brandon, the girl in the apple smelling room shifted a little, even in her sleep moving towards where I sat.

And she would be mine tomorrow.


	16. I’ll Be All You Need And More

**_Right - the whole jump in time thing.  
Basically, I wrote the chapter following Alice and Quil's argument about twenty times. Every time I did, it was a good chapter - but somehow, it just didn't seem _right_. I try never to publish my chapters unless I am 100% happy with them (content wise, if not grammatically!). I'm sorry if anyone was looking forward to the aftermath - Jasper's words just came when I called.  
It might seem a bit out of kilter, as this chapter starts before the previous one - however, it ends after it._  


* * *

15. I'll Be All You Need And More**

"I hope it rains."

"I hope it _pours_."

"And your dress gets soaked, and your hair gets ruined…"

"And the guests get carried away by a flash flood…"

"Sounds perfect."

"Mmmm…"

We were as entwined as it was possible for two people (and an afghan) to be. This last addition to our tryst was at Jasper's behest, as he didn't want my 'big day' to be ruined by the presence of a red nose and streaming eyes.

"How are your feet?" He asked.

"My feet?" I took me a minute to process the question. When I understood, I wiggled them in their violently purple socks. "Toasty, thank you. I'm looking forward to being able to enjoy your company without having to be wrapped up like a mummy."

"No blankets…" He mused.

"No scarves…"

"No chattering teeth to disrupt my concentration."

"_Nothing_ to disrupt your concentration."

He agreed in a way which defied description. I leaned my head heavily on his chest and gazed up at him, content for once to hear nothing but the quiet _whoosh_ of his breath, and to see nothing but his archangel face.

"How are yours, anyway? I never asked."

"How are my what?"

"Your feet."

He grinned a lazy, happy grin at me, seemingly as content as I was. "Would you like to have a guess?"

I hazarded one or two. "Blazing? Aflame? Pits-of-Hell-esque? Rather warm?"

"Maybe one."

I gave him a look.

"Or two."

The furrows in my forehead deepened.

"Or _all_," He admitted, finally.

"So this is my last night as a free woman," I reflected.

"And you are entirely and completely free to spend it having the best sex or your life with Mike Newton if you wish."

I snorted, which merited me a quick jab in the ribs. "_You_'_re_ going to be the best sex of my life."

"I might have terrible technique."

"Or none at all."

"I might insist on wearing sunglasses throughout."

"You might," I conceded. "But then again, you might not. I'm pinning all my hopes on you, Whitlock. You'd better not let me down."

"No ma'am," He said, snapping to an impressive (if horizontal) salute.

I looked at the ceiling, at the silver spotlights which were dimmed to a low, ambient glow. There was edge of excitement to the fear I felt in the pit of my stomach – after all, what girl hasn't ever dreamed about her wedding day?

A troubling thought struck me.

"Jasper," I asked tentatively. "What do vampires do for bachelor parties? They aren't…I mean, are there…are there vampire strippers?"

Jasper's face was set like a stone, and he looked as if he was biting the insides of his cheeks in an attempt not to laugh. "Other vampires who…who don't share our way of life are mostly nomadic, so I highly doubt it."

"Oh." I let out a breath I wasn't even aware I'd been holding.

"It'll just be the normal drill, I'm guessing," He continued. "Run around a bit, bag a few lions for Edward, a few bears for Emmett...I'm not quite as discerning in my tastes as either of them, though."

"And you're leaving…"

He winced. "From the state of Emmett's emotions…very, very soon. Now."

"Oh." I couldn't help the flatness in my voice – I was annoyed that our last night together as unattached entities was ending so soon. Jasper noticed, of course; gifting me one swift, burning kiss which knocked me backwards. He smiled impishly.

"I couldn't leave without reminding you what you're missing."

And then he was gone – faster than my eyes could follow. I slumped back into the bed, exhausted and slightly dejected by his speedy exit. The bed felt far too wide and far too warm, and I felt strangely lopsided without my usual flank guard.

Still, I was _tired_. And my hand hurt like hell. Jasper had wanted to kill Quil, but I'd gone one better.

I'd sent him a wedding invitation.

That thought made me snicker. _What goes around comes around_, _Ateara_. Still, I hoped Emily might put in an appearance, even if Sam wasn't with her. I could do with _some_ sense of normality between my shrieking mother and undead bridesmaids.

_Bride_. I shivered. It was the night before, and I still wasn't one hundred percent sure that I'd made the right decision. Did I really, truly want to become a vampire? To have to leave everything I had? To never be able to have children, never to grow old, never to die?

I think for once my age was with me. My mother always said that young people thought that they were immortal, and she was right. The reality of being immortal shouldn't take that much getting used to.

Satisfied with my decision, I pulled a shirt of Jasper's from the bedpost and wriggled under the covers, burying my face in the soft blue fabric. With his scent lingering on every fiber, it wasn't too hard to imagine him not being so far away.

I could faintly hear the soothing strains of a piano far below, and I could guess who knew I was wakeful – after all, who could read minds? – and I was grateful. They must not have left yet.

_Thanks_,_ Edward_, I thought. _Thank you for the lullaby_.

* * *

I thought I heard a chuckle as the clock downstairs chimed midnight faintly. It pulled me from my sleep, but the room was empty.

I curled beneath the black and white striped duvet and waited for the dawn to come.


	17. On Sleepless Roads

**_Sorry I've been AWOL for so long - this is one of the chapters where you really can't get by without just the right muse.  
Enjoy.  
_

* * *

16. On Sleepless Roads**

The pink light of day streamed through the glass wall, waking me from a deep and troubled sleep. My dreams the previous night had been numerous, and all the more disturbing because of their basis in real life. How could it really be possible that both vampires _and_ werewolves now played prominent parts in my life?

_Because you were lucky enough to fall in love with one_, my brain helpfully supplied. _And_,_ by some miracle_,_ he loves you too_._ Oh_,_ and you slapped the other one upside the head_.

You said it, brain. And now I was talking to myself.

A couple of years ago, this all would have seemed really strange to me – not the talking thing – but the rest of it. But there I was, nineteen today and marrying the aforementioned bloodsucker before the day was out.

"Knock knock!"

"Go away!" I called back, trying to inject the same amount of gaiety and _joie de vivre_ into my tone.

Rosalie came in anyway, with something large in a garment bag that I tried very hard not to look at. Bella followed her, ceremoniously carrying a small, steaming pot.

"I have good news for you!" The former sang, swishing her golden locks with all the enthusiasm and verve of someone who actually _likes_ weddings. Sure, _I_ liked weddings.

Just not my own.

I thought of the most sublime thing that could happen, under the circumstances. "The whole thing's been called off?"

"Nope."

I tried again. "Then…I actually _do_ get to go to Vegas, wearing hypothetical jeans?"

"Nope. Why would your jeans be hypothetical, anyhow? I got you those really nice Earl ones, and – "

"Jasper's turned gay, and is at present running away to Italy to be with Aro, who has _finally_ accepted and expressed his own sexuality?"

Right now, anything was worth a shot.

"No, silly!" Rosalie tittered, flumping down on the bed with the thing which was definitely _not_ a dress cradled in her arms like a newborn. "You get to see your dress!"

I groaned. She didn't notice.

"I would have had it on you days ago if the designer hadn't been _so_ temperamental. I mean, how was _I_ to know that he had a heart murmur? And even if he did, that's still no excuse to spend time skiving off!"

"Rosalie!" I hissed, having overhead said conversation. "The guy is in the hospital undergoing major surgery! He can't be expected to – "

"So I took the dress over there and made him finish it before they did the procedure. I mean, _honestly_." She rolled her beautiful eyes. "Some people will do anything to avoid getting the job done!"

"What's in the pot?" I asked Bella, desperate to get off the subject of suffering clothes designers.

"Wax," She replied, giving me a small (and slightly anxious) smile.

"What in the world for?"

"Rosalie said – "

"That I almost killed you myself the last time you shaved," Her sister completed. "You're going to want the maximum of smoothness, and I'm – and so is Jasper, probably, and several of the guests – going to want the minimum of blood."

I scrambled toward the head of the bed, absolutely terrified. "Do you know how _painful_ that stuff is? It's like hellfire hair removal!"

"Virtually painless, that's what it says on the tin."

"The tin is – let go of me!" She had seized my ankle and was slowly inching it toward her while I clung onto the headboard in a desperate attempt to escape. She held the equivalent of a fat popsicle stick in her hand, and was covering it in what looked like syrup, except it was –

"Jesus!" I clenched my teeth, eyes streaming against the sheer _agony_ of having the surface of my leg stripped off. "Doesn't organized religion have any effect on you guys?"

"None whatsoever!" said Rosalie merrily, chucking the used strip.

"I've always been somewhat of an agnostic," Bella supplied helpfully, handing Satan another piece of cotton.

"Couldn't I have some ice or – son of a witch!"

"That's good." Rosalie had a smug smile plastered all over her stupid, stunning face. "No language."

"But I – mother _trucker_!"

* * *

I descended into a state of somewhat dazed confusion for most of the beautifying process, only surfacing when I was asked a direct question. There wasn't an inch of me that hadn't been scrubbed, tweezed, polished or painted.

I felt like I'd been to Hell in a handcart. I looked fabulous. My hair was, for once, pretty – the front part smooth and pushed back with a dark blue ribbon before entering into a cluster of inky black curls. The little makeup Rosalie's swift neat fingers had applied made my skin look like backlit porcelain, and my eyes were beautifully highlighted in a pale, shimmering blue.

"Going for a color scheme, are we?" I said nervously as she reached for the bag. "Look Rose, it's not that I'm – "

"Shut your eyes."

"But – "

"Shut your eyes!"

I obeyed, fearing the consequences and cursing the impracticality of a morning service. No matter how I looked, I felt like raw meat – horrified raw meat.

I barely even felt the dress as it whispered over my skin – just heard the satin sighs and soft nuances that told me lace, silk, embroidery. The experience might have _just_ been enjoyable if I hadn't known that in a minute, I was going to have to open my eyes and see myself. In a wedding dress.

"And there you are." Rosalie sounded smug – I'd obviously turned out better than (or, knowing Rosalie, as good as) she'd expected.

"Do I _have_ to look?"

"No," She said noncommittally. "But I _really_ don't want to have to prize your eyelids apart."

Sighing, I opened my eyes.

The girl in the mirror stood taller than I ever could – her figure elongated by a long, smooth bodice of shimmering white beading which flowed (only interrupted by a dark blue sash – there was the color scheme) into a graceful, spreading ballroom skirt. Tiny threads of blue began at thigh level and widened, the color deepening, until the hem was the deep azure of a winter sky.

"Is that me?" I asked, moving my arm and waiting to see if the apparition did too.

"It's you," Bella said, coming to stand beside me. She bore a pair of satin covered stilettos in her hand, though they had been tweaked; thick cushioning had been added to the sole, making me sure I would be able to run a marathon in those babies. They too were snow white.

"Oh God," I breathed. "Oh my God."

My skirts rustled as Rosalie took the shoes from her sister and began attaching them to my feet. "If I'd known I'd get this reaction," She said, almost drowning in gossamer overskirt. "I would've shown you pictures."

"I'm getting married…in this?"

"Yes."

"Can I move it in?"

"Try."

I grabbed nearby Bella's arm, and she began to giggle as we waltzed smoothly around the room, the skirt of my gown occasionally knocking over the small accoutrements which littered the floor (Jasper's, mostly. I prefer to keep everything in shipshape).

"I even have cleavage!" I exalted, bending and flexing in the mirror. "What _did_ you do?"

"Corseting shelf," Was the casual reply, and I marveled once again at my soon-to-be-sister's ingenuity.

"I'd hug you, but…I'm not sure if I can reach."

She took my hand anyway, squeezing it. "Now, the shoes may take a little getting used to. The reason this whole thing took so long was that there was a lot of mathematical thinking to consider – angles, heights, distances…" She broke off, grinning. "Suffice to say that when Jasper kisses you, you won't be needing a stepladder."

"Oh Rose…this is so beautiful…so perfect…so amazingly brilliantly wonderfully..."

And with those superlatives, I fainted dead away into the ocean of organza.


	18. The Sleepless Go

**_Hey guys!  
You've probably forgotten who I am by now, and I am so so sorry for that. It really was unforgivable of me, and in penance for my neglect I promise to make the next chapter full of extra gooey goodness (it was going to have it anyway).  
This chapters dedication is to ramaya, and therefore to my two wonderfully anonymous fans (I have anonymous fans, I have anonymous fans!).  
Don't worry, you have no need to:  
a. Spray me with blood and dump me at the centre of Volterra,  
b. Send Demetri after me and chase me and down and bring me to Aro, or  
c. Spray me with vampire scent and drop me on the other side of the werewolf border.  
Though, BTW, I would be honoured to be your prisoner. That applies to you all._**  
**_

* * *

_17. The Sleepless Go**

_I really must __stop doing this_, I thought to myself as the haze around my brain cleared. _I'm sure it never happened before I came to Forks._

Someone was holding me. Well, not someone – it was a touch I recognized. But it couldn't be who I thought it was, because that would be flouting one of the most sacred and unwritten laws of the wedding ceremony…

"Jasper," I said. "You'd better not have your eyes open."

"I don't," He replied, sounding relieved. I suppose fainting away and sinking into a white cloud of no return must be very disconcerting, especially if it's _your_ fiancée fainting in a dress she's wearing for _your_ benefit.

"What's wrong with me, anyhow?" I was intrigued – nothing that I knew of had been untoward enough to make me faint…

"You haven't been fed in, oh, at least twelve hours? And _someone_ forgot that humans need at least three meals a day in order to remain sentient and healthy!"

"Hey!" Rosalie's voice said. "I resent that!"

"She more than made up for it," I cut in quickly. "I have the smoothest legs this side of the Pacific."

"We're the closest thing _to_ the Pacific," He sighed, but the anger in his voice had faded. Instead, I felt tentative fingers brush the crown of my head.

"Your hair feels pretty."

"Hey, hey, hey!" I made vague swatting gestures in the hope that I wouldn't _actually_ swat anyone. "No touching! Touching is as good as looking to you people! Anyway, shouldn't you be off…I don't know, getting some Dutch courage or something?"

Mercifully, he laughed. "As if _you_ could scare _me_. Alright, I'm going."

Another pair of cool hands slipped in to support my head as a pair of cool lips brushed my forehead. "I'll see you at the altar."

"Awww, and there I was just beginning to like you."

I heard another chuckle, and then the sound of a door closing.

"He's gone," Rosalie announced unnecessarily, and I warily opened my eyes.

"It was so romantic," Bella declared from her position at my head. "He practically broke the door down – eyes closed, of course – when he felt your emotions go flat. _Then_ he dragged Carlisle in here, and started hopping around when Carlisle said you'd wake up in your own time."

I laughed at the mental picture. "How long have I got?"

"Well, Rose and I have still got to get into our dresses – which are blue, by the way, and get sorted out…"

"So five minutes, then."

"Give me seven," Rosalie declared grandly, tugging at a strand of her sister's brown hair. "I have to do something with _this_ first."

So I got to watch as they slipped into dark blue dresses (one spaghetti strap shoulder, the other a pinned drape, like in a Greek tunic). Rosalie piled her glorious hair up into an à la ballerina crown, while Bella's was de-tangled into submission by her sister, and pinned into a long trail of equine ringlets. They looked beautiful.

I felt like the homely cousin.

Rosalie whipped in and out momentarily, returning with three bouquets – two bundles of freesia and baby's breath with white roses, and one magnificent spray of trailing creepers, calla lilies and deep, crimson roses, which I was obviously expected not to drop/crush and/or damage. She also gave a little shriek about halfway through this process, and yanked me away from the wall (where I'd been standing in order not to knock anything over) and gave me a long talk about how she didn't usually approve of dark colors on a bride, but for me she'd make an exception. She painted my fingernails the same blue as my dress, and then followed it with a French manicure for my toes.

"Why in heaven's name do my _toenails_ need to be French?" I demanded. "Is there some ancient vampire law which states that all brides must have perfect white tips to their toes?"

"No," She replied, grinning wickedly. "But I'll bite you otherwise."

For once, I actually believed her.

* * *

"How long?" I asked desperately, hopping round the room. In my agitation, I'd smashed two drinking glasses, a photo frame, and sent several stacks of paper tumbling to the floor. Jasper's (and my) room looked as if a bomb had hit it.

"Not long," Bella soothed, trying to catch hold of me. When she missed, my mother (who had joined our merry band) made a swipe.

"Your father is waiting outside the door," She said, pressing down hard on my shoulders and sounding more authoritative than I'd ever heard her sound before. "You can go down, or you can not go down. You don't have to do this."

I took a deep breath. "Yes. I do."

She chuckled. "Practice makes perfect."

In a sudden swift movement, I threw my arms around her petite (but still larger than mine) frame. Tears began to put my makeup at jeopardy as I hid my face in her neck, and my bridesmaids dived for the tissues.

"Oh, baby. Hush now. Hush." She held me at arm's length and examined me, then kissed me firmly on the forehead. "You look beautiful. You _are_ beautiful. And there is a wonderful boy – a wonderful _man_ – down there waiting for who loves you silly. Are you going to stand him up?"

"No," I sniffed, as I was accosted from two sides by a respective Kleenex and powder puff.

"No," She agreed. "You're going to go down like a lady, and you're going to make me proud because you're my daughter, who's grown up into a beautiful, intelligent, honest, wonderful, _loving_ woman." She held me tight for a few more moments and then finally let go, smoothing down my sparkling bodice.

As she did so, it felt like a little piece of myself had come away; escaping out of the open window or beneath the door. The part which had bound me to my parents with an irrepressible need was no longer apparent in what I had become – but it was half finished, incomplete.

There was something else I needed to complete me.

"Okay," I said, straining to make my tone businesslike. "I have something old, which is the dress' trim – thanks for that, by the way, Bella – I have something new, which is the dress itself. Something borrowed?"

Rosalie nipped beneath my skirt like a skillful monkey and I felt something shimmy up my thigh.

"Garter," She explained when she emerged. "And I want it back."

"And something blue," I finished. "You can take your pick on that one, but…I think I'm done. I think I'm ready."

Through the floor, I could hear the buzz of chatter and the lilt of a sonata being played on the grand piano. I recognized the tune almost instantly. Bella's face lit up as she too listened.

"My Heart Will Go On?" I asked quizzically, and she smiled.

"Edward is so sentimental sometimes. He'll never admit it, but he loves weddings." She took my hand. "And marrying him was the best thing I ever did, and I hope you know that."

"Me too," Rosalie added, taking my other hand. "Except, you know...with Emmett."

"Yeah," I remarked. "Over, and over, and over again."

She took a playful swing at me which I ducked, realizing that, ever the businesswoman, her other hand held my gigantic bouquet.

"So you're ready to become my sister?" She asked, handing it over."

I smiled, grimly anchoring my hands around the smooth holder. "I think so."

"Then Bella and I will go down first. Count to five, then follow us down." Her forehead momentarily wrinkled before smoothing out, presumably relaying the information to Edward. I knew my assumption was right when the music changed to the dulcet tones of Debussy's Clair de Lune, and she took Bella's hand.

They exited with all the ceremony of two queens and I, following them, saw my father's face, felt the shadow of the landing fall on me, and wondered what in the world I was going to do next.


	19. May Angels Lead You In

**_The wedding - the wedding! Trust me, it was worth the wait. I laughed, I cried, and I wrote you an extra long chapter because I was so blinded by tears that I didn't notice that it was seven pages long. So go on. Enjoy the hell out of it.  
_

* * *

18. May Angels Lead You In**

My mouth stretched into the tight, false smile that I always assumed when I was stressed or nervous. I would be following two exquisite, immortal women down the stairs with all the dignity of a sack of potatoes, and it scared me witless.

"Ally?" My dad gave me a broad smile, leaning in to kiss my forehead. "You look beautiful, sweetheart." He took my hand and squeezed, knowing intuitively that I would need something to cling onto today. I held my bouquet hard with the other hand, praying I wouldn't drop it.

Rosalie flicked a piece of lint from my bodice. "There," She cooed, an angel of smugness at her own ingenuity. "Perfect."

"What if I screw up?" I hissed, suddenly frantic. "What if I trip over something, or drop something, or lose the ring – oh God, I'm going to lose the ring, aren't I?"

Bella smoothed my hair. "Don't worry. If I did it, so can you."

"But you're not the clumsiest person on the planet!"

"No," She conceded. "But I _was_."

Understanding dawned and with a great swell of love I threw my arms around her neck, accidentally clunking her over the back of the head with my bouquet.

"Sorry, sorry!"

Rosalie insouciantly adjusted the curls I'd ruffled before firmly placing my arm through my dad's.

"The reason," She said. "That you are not going to mess up today is because if you do, _I will kill you_!"

I felt all the blood drain from my face and she briskly pinched my cheeks. "I'm kidding. But don't worry – do you really think Jasper will let you fall?"

"Some tripping is unavoidable," I grumbled and she laughed, swiftly kissing my newly pink face.

With a final swell, Clair de Lune ended, and Wagner's inevitable march began (albeit with enough embellishments to wake the dead). Bella squeezed my hand before reclaiming Rosalie's, and together they began the stately, measured walk down the staircase.

One Mississippi. Two Mississippis. Three Mississippis. Four –

"Shouldn't we go down?" My father whispered.

"Dad! I was counting Mississippis, and you – well, I guess we should now."

Without another word, he led me toward the staircase, and reality seemed to drop away. I had wondered if there'd been a purpose to the endless excursions Jasper had taken me on for the last few days, and the way we'd always come in through the kitchen door. Now, seeing the decorations, I knew why.

It was like a private fairyland. Soft, shimmering lights filled every alcove, sparkles bouncing back and forth far above my head. The scent was divine – roses, orchids, freesia, cinnamon, pine; all woven together with some scent I couldn't recognize. The entire hall was transformed with row upon row of white folding chairs, each filled by a friend or family member dressed in their best. My mother's hat (which she _definitely_ hadn't been wearing before) pressed up against the heads of the people next to her, both of whom I recognized with some glee.

Sara Denning and Jake Hoffman. Ah, sweet revenge.

I didn't want to let my eyes follow the rose petal scattered aisle, didn't want to see the arch of a flowery trellis arching high at the far end.

What I certainly did _not_ expect to see was Emmett, looking stern and serious, holding a closed order of service between his large hands.

Oh God. Oh no.

Emmett was going to officiate over my wedding.

As we reached the bottom of the staircase there were the appropriate gasps and sighs, while I kept my eyes focused on the floor in a show of combined embarrassment and horror. Immediately after this wedding, I was filing for divorce. Then I was going to dig myself a hole and hide in it, preferably for the next twenty five years.

It was only when I felt the cool touch of transference on my arm that I looked up, ready to wish my dad a final goodbye. What I saw froze me in place.

Jasper was radiant, on fire; his skin glowed milky pale and his eyes were lighter than I ever seen them – he must have glutted himself for me. His jaw was set, chin up – the face of a warrior, the face of an archangel…

The face of the man I loved.

My fear evaporated in less then a second. I hugged my dad tight and he kissed my cheek, taking my hand and placing it in Jasper's. His touch sent sparks through my fingers, through my soul, and I could feel my own eyes burning – with ambition, with fire, and overall with the most profound and passionate connection I had ever felt with one single person. It didn't matter about Emmett. It didn't matter that my bridesmaids were a million times more gorgeous than I could ever be.

In this union, we became what we were – one body.

One spirit.

Emmett stepped forward with a grin, and my heart was light enough for me to grin right back as he majestically flipped open his order of service and began.

"Dearly beloved…"

I lost myself as he continued, resurfacing only when Carlisle mounted the podium, giving me a wide smile.

"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but speak without love, I am simply a gong booming or a cymbal clashing. If I have the gift of prophecy, understanding all the mysteries there are and knowing everything, and if I have faith in all its fullness to move mountains but am without love, then I am nothing at all. If I give away all that I possess, piece by piece, and if I even let them take my body to burn it, but am without love, it will do me no good whatsoever.  
"Love is always patient and kind, it is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited, it is never rude or selfish; it does not take offense, and is not resentful.  
"Love takes no pleasure in other people's sins but delights in the truth; it is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes.  
"Love does not come to an end."

Silence followed the age old words, and my eyes brimmed over as he descended, taking his place and Esme's side and folding her hand in both of his, true proof that love never came to an end.

"Now," Emmett boomed. "Jasper and Alice have each prepared a set of vows, which they shall now read."

Half an hour ago, I would have hopped around in terror that I'd left my cue card upstairs. Now, I didn't care. The right words were etched in my heart. All I had to do was say them.

"Jasper, do proceed."

"Alice," His voice was tight with emotion, and his shook his head and started again. "Alice. When I first met you, I…well, first of all I thought you were incredibly rude."

Laughs and scattered applause from the congregation.

"And I was determined not to like you, even though you had captured my attention. You see, Alice, I think I fell in love with you that first day."

I looked up, surprised, and he smiled and caressed my cheek with steady fingers. "To find someone who could be so entirely herself with me without knowing a thing about me – that was a rare thing.  
"And I look at you every day and see the same beauty I saw then – the nobility of spirit, the pureness of heart, and overall the capacity for love. Even then, I knew I'd found the person I'd been waiting for all this time."

There was a tiny snort from Emmett at that – few of the congregation knew just how long he'd been waiting for me.

"And I promise…I promise you, Alice Mary Brandon, that I will honor you, obey you, cherish you, worship you and love you as long as we both shall live. I promise to be your protector, you helpmate, your husband, your lover…and your best friend. Because those are all the things you are to me."

I heard distinct sniffling coming from my mother's corner, and took a deep breath.

"Jasper," I said, voice wobbly with emotion. "We've been through so much together. Time has proved to me that I can't live without you – I can't even bear the thought of it! You are…you are everything to me.  
"When I came to Forks, it was no secret that I disliked it."

A few whoops from Mike in the back and assorted catcalls accompanied the laughter this time.

"But you…you showed me that there was beauty in everything." I looked him straight in the eyes. "There is light in the darkness, truth in the lie. There is good in every evil thing, and loveliness in what others may find hateful. I knew…I knew on the day that I realized I loved Forks that I loved you too. Because…one wouldn't have been properly there for me without the other.  
"And I promise – no – I _swear_ to fight at your side against whatever comes at us. I will be your light in the darkness, your way when you can't see the path. I – " I broke off, fiercely, swiping the tears away from my eyes. "The world could end. The stars could go out, the sun and the moon could fall from the sky. But if we were together…then I would be in paradise. Forever."

The whole room was hushed enough for me to believe that we were the only people alive, let alone the only people in the room. Emmett spoke on and I felt the cool, light, and entirely right weight of Jasper's ring join my finger. And it was…perfect. Engagement, eternity and wedding band in one, an intricately carved oblong glimmered with millions of tiny stones and silver curlicues, along with tiny flowers frozen in diamond.

Nothing to be afraid of.

It was something more. Just right for us and just right for…me, the same way that Jasper's simple band suited him, even if he probably wouldn't be able to wear it for much of the foreseeable future.

"Now that Jasper and Alice have given themselves to each other by solemn vows, with the joining of hands and the giving and receiving of rings, I now pronounce that they are husband and wife, and I'll have something to say about it if anyone tries to put them asunder."

The roar of laughter from the congregation almost drowned out Emmett's next command.

"Go on, little brother. Kiss her."

I could barely see through the blinding gaze of tears as (as Rosalie had promised), a bare twitch of the toes brought us within kissing distance. I flung my arms straight around Jasper's neck, breathless, giddy, as he lifted me clean off the floor for our first married kiss.

It may have gone on too long, and there may have been amusement and vulgar jokes. But to me – there, a foot off the ground, with my fingers tangled in Jasper's hair and his lips moving with mine, I was home.


	20. Regina Laurifer

**_I'm so glad everyone enjoyed the wedding - I really did put my heart and soul into it. Oh, and by the way, this chapter title means 'The Queen Triumphant'. Very apt, I thought.  
_

* * *

19. Regina Laurifer**

The flow from ceremony to reception was flawlessly planned and executed by my two new sisters, who, I tearfully informed them, should take up wedding planning.

Hugs, kisses, smiles and loving words were rained down on me from every quarter. My dress was mussed from hundreds of embraces from friends, family – my hair ruffled and habitually smoothed back into place my each new hand. All throughout, I was present of one thing – my own hand was held in a cold, steely grasp.

And he never let go.

Mike Newton gave me a sad smile and a hug when it was his turn, holding on for perhaps a little too long. "Missed my chance," He said apologetically. Then shyly, he kissed my cheek. "I hope you'll be very happy, Alice." His gaze flickered to the groom, standing beside me. "You too, Jasper."

"The best of luck in finding _your_ Alice," Jasper said gallantly, and I ignored the fact he would have gleefully ground Mike's bones to make his bread (or something of that sort).

Lauren was on me like an ice blue wave, shrieking unintelligible things about my dress and the ceremony. I just hugged her, far too happy to worry that this was the first time she'd spoken to me in at least a month.

When people crowded towards the long buffet tables at the end of the room I finally collapsed into a chair, allowing myself to slouch.

"It's not over," My new husband informed me. "Till it's over."

"Shut up," I said, and kissed him. His abilities were usually muted in my presence but my own elation was doubled and spilled over so that my heart sang in my chest. We shared everything now.

"Aren't you hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted, realizing it. "I can't remember the last time I ate. No – Rosalie gave me a Heath bar after you left so I didn't faint again."

"I'll get you something."

"Don't go," I pleaded, pulling on his sleeve. He laughed, swiftly kissing my forehead, my nose, and my lips.

"I'll be back."

"You promised to obey me," I told him stubbornly.

"I also promised to worship you. What kind of acolyte would I be if I didn't bring offerings?" He mock shivered. "Perish the thought of what the goddess would do to me."

I shook my head, examining my skirt. "I'm no goddess."

Jasper leaned closer, so that his mouth was next to my ear. "Won't you live forever? Shan't we be together always?"

"Yes," I conceded. "But – "

"But – " He kissed me again. "Nothing. Today is my day, and you will be exactly what I say you are. Now sit still like a good obedient wife, and I'll go and fight my way through the hordes."

I pulled him close as if for another kiss, but instead spoke so that our lips brushed with every word. "You _will_ obey me," I growled.

"I will obey you every day of eternity," He promised cheerfully. "But not now."

"And so this is the famous Alice."

Jasper shot upright like a whip crack, turning to face the new additions to our group. "Kate. And you've brought Tanya too, how lovely. You two always did love weddings. Where are Carmen and Eleazar?"

"Mingling," Kate said nonchalantly. Then she turned her attention to me, and I found with a shock of surprise that I was gazing into a pair of wide topaz eyes which scrutinized me expertly.

I was meeting the extended family.

Kate was brilliant, of course; her dress long and flowing and deep, deep scarlet. Her hair was cornsilk down her back in gentle waves, similar to Rosalie's but paler. Beside her, Tanya was smaller, with perfect curves and a shimmering deep green sheath that showed off every pore. Her strawberry blonde curls shone pink in the light.

"Kate, Tanya." Jasper offered me a hand and I rose, smoothing down my dress and smiling, though inside my heart was banging against my ribs in a valiant attempt to escape.

"This is my Alice."

Kate offered me a slim hand, her features lit up by a toothpaste ad smile. "Alice. We've heard so much about you. It's so lovely to meet Jasper's mate at last."

Tanya shot me a wide grin. "Welcome to the family."

I took Kate's hand, returning Tanya's smile. "It's nice to be a part of it."

Standing just behind and considerably above me, Jasper chuckled. "I never thought I hear you say _that_."

"Don't make me break something on you again!"

Kate giggled, covering her rosebud mouth with a hand. "I can see you two really are made for each other. I though no one could master this one." She shot a meaningful look over my shoulder. "Though many have tried."

"Well," Tanya declared, looking sweepingly around the room. "I think we should go and find Carmen and Eleazar, don't you, Kate?" She gave me another smile. "We'll catch up later, Alice. After all, we have simply _eons_ of time to talk!"

With a peal of bell like laughter, they melted away into the crowd.

Jasper's gentle touch on my waist brought me unwillingly back to the present, and I rotated slowly.

"You," He breathed. "Did brilliantly."

"Kate has a thing for you."

"_Had_."

"What difference does – "

"Hi!"

I groaned internally. I knew that 'hi'.

Jasper smiled at someone over my head. "Which is my cue to leave, I think. If you'll excuse me, ladies."

And then he too was gone, and I turned back round to face the past.

"_Alice_!" Sara shrieked, throwing her arms around me. "It's been so long – too long! How have you been – well, obviously I don't need to ask that! Oh, I've missed you!"

Sara's upstaging-the-bride-outfit was a hot pink one shouldered number, clingy in all the right places. Her tan was flawless, in stark contrast to my pallor, her elegantly coiffed honey blond hair the opposite of mine. She was tall, leggy, and perfect.

_Why am I constantly surrounded by tall, leggy, perfect people_?!

"He's _gorgeous_," She informed me, pressing me back down into a chair as if I were an invalid. "Now – tell me. How many months?"

"What?" I gazed at her, completely bewildered.

"How many months gone are you?" She drew back a little, making a camera lens with her hands. "Most people start showing at three – but then you've always been slight, so – "

"Sara!" I yell/whispered. "I'm _not_ pregnant!"

"You're not?" Now it was her turn to look confused. "But then – " She gestured about us. "Why all this?"

"Um…because I _love_ him?"

"Who couldn't love him," She purred, crossing her legs in a way that still somehow managed to be lascivious. "Man, that body…that hair…this house…"

"I don't love him because of the house! God!"

"What?" She looked puzzled. "What did I say?"

"Weren't you listening to my vows? I. Love. Him. Him. Jasper. Not the house, not the money, not the cars, not the tux – I love _him_."

"Okay…" She still looked as if she were expecting me to announce that I was becoming a nun. "What's he like in the bedroom?"

"A perfect gentleman," I replied snippily.

"So you haven't – "

"No."

"But you are gonna – "

"Yes."

"And you lived together, and still – "

"Yes."

"Wow." She exhaled in a whistle, leaning back in her chair. "I never expected you…like this. I expected you to grow up in Phoenix and marry some rich guy: buy cars, clothes – like we planned."

"I did grow up," I announced, standing. "Maybe it's just that you need to." And with that, I walked away from the longest friendship I'd ever had. I walked away from it with a completely light, entirely carefree heart.

After some mingling and half a plate of food, I fell into conversation with Angela Weber and Ben Cheney (her plus one). When Jasper had left me (figuratively, as I now knew), I had made a silent pact with myself to do something good for someone else, and now my good thing had come to fruition. They were going away to college together.

I was laughing at some stupid thing we'd all done together when I'd first arrived when I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder. Still laughing, I turned around, a champagne glass in one hand (I had promised myself that I'd discover alcohol before I became immortal) and a sausage roll in the other, and almost turned right into the arms of the one person whose presence shocked me even more than Emmett's as the minister.

Emily Young had braved the scent which her heritage made impossible to bear. Behind her, a tall figure smiled apologetically, ill at ease with the crowds for precisely that reason.

Quil Ateara had come to my wedding.


	21. Crashing

**_Fast, I know. But don't complain...  
_

* * *

20. Crashing**

"Emily!" I cried, forcing my attention away from the person standing behind her. "You made it!"

She looked beautiful – wearing a dress of her trademark lavender. "I wouldn't have missed this for the world. Oh, I feel just like your mom…I'm all choked up…"

"Don't cry," I told her, feeling slightly choked up myself. "It must smell awful to you, though…_I_ must smell awful…"

"You do," She admitted, tears begin to roll down her cheeks. "But, oh Alice, honey, you look _so_ beautiful…and we – well, we arrived right at the end of the ceremony, and your vows…well, they were just perfect."

"And it'll be you next!" I said brightly, wiping my own cheeks.

Emily's face dropped a little. "Yeah," She said softly. "Will you…will you be able to come, or – "

"Let's not talk about that now," I suggested swiftly, taking her arm. "I haven't seen you since – well, since I saw you last. How have you been? How is everybody? And Sam – "

"Alice."

Quil's deep voice rumbled behind me as I turned, making me pause mid revolution.

"We need to talk."

I slowly pivoted back around, looking at my erstwhile best friend for the first time in what must have been weeks. He didn't look good – his russet skin had a gray sheen, and his cropped dark hair looked lank. Someone (Emily, probably) had forced him into a suit and it fit him badly – showing inches of muscled wrist and even a sliver of sock as the pants legs ended too early.

I felt pity. Terrible, dreadful pity.

"We do need to talk," I agreed. "Come outside."

He followed me out of the crowded room and into the garden. The sky had darkened and though it was barely lunchtime, it looked as if rain were threatening. I gestured Quil beneath the shade of one of the cedars, anxious not to be seen from the house.

"Your hand healed well," He said abruptly, and I wiggled it absentmindedly.

"Yeah. Carlisle's magic with broken bones."

"I meant to apologize for that."

I shook my head. "It wasn't your fault. I – I shouldn't have behaved so rashly. It was very good of you to call Jasper for me. I was semi-conscious – I heard some of the things he said to you."

"I said worse to you."

"And maybe I deserved it!" I retorted, annoyed by his constant repentance. Taking a deep breath, I struggled to calm down. "So maybe you evaluated our relationship wrong. So maybe I misjudged you. So maybe…" I coughed nervously. "So maybe we're friends now."

He nodded, smiling. "Still…you should've married me."

"You should've asked."

"Naw, I mean, seriously – he gets to keep you for what? Sixty, seventy years, tops? You're not the healthiest of people, Alice. You've been through a lot."

"Why are you expecting me to go gallivanting off after sixty or seventy years?" I queried, genuinely bemused.

"Alice – " Quil caught me by shoulders, his palms so large that he was practically gripping the entirety of my upper arms. "You're gonna die, honey. just the same as anybody else. It makes no difference who you're married to."

"Why would I want to die?" I wrinkled my nose. "Why should I die? I don't want to die."

"Everyone dies." Quil said, picking up a twig from the ground and bending it between his fingers. "Every human being has to die."

"And what makes you think I'm going to me human?"

The twig broke between Quil's palms with a sharp _snap_. "You – what did you say?"

"I said, what makes you think I'm – "

"That's what I thought you said!" He was angry now, pacing. "What makes you think he's gonna change his mind? You've got this far and he's obviously refused you, so – "

"Hey, hey, hey!" I brought a palm up to halt his tirade. "What makes you think that is was _him_ refusing? Do I look _completely_ spineless to you? Jasper has been _more_ than willing to change me for quite some time – I just didn't want to slaughter the unsuspecting populace of Forks! Now we're married, I have a quantifiable reason for going away."

Quil looked shocked. "I – I thought – "

"You thought wrong," I said icily. And then, more gently, "I'm not Bella, Quil, just the same way you're not Jacob. I want to be with him, yes – just…just not yet. I need some time."

"So you're not entirely decided, then?" A faint ray of hope shone at the back of his eyes. "You still have doubts?"

I sighed and gripped his hand, moving it to rest on the white silk, just above where my heart raced – not out of want, but out of necessity.

"What happens when we can't hurt each other any more?" I asked softly. "What happens when I can't even _bleed_?"

"Then you're dead to me," He replied. His tone was emotionless.

"I've chosen my path. I may as well be dead to you now."

Quil's hand moved upwards to cup the delicate skin of my neck – still tenderly, though I knew how easy it would be for him to squeeze; what strange sense of triumph it would give him to have separated me from Jasper at last.

"At least," He commented bitterly, as if voicing my thoughts. "You wouldn't belong to anyone if you were dead."

"I don't belong to anyone, Quil Ateara," I told him firmly. The look in his eyes was beginning to unnerve me, and his hand still hadn't moved from my throat. "And if you don't remove your fingers, I'll break them."

"Or I will," A new voice offered. My spine sagged in relief and Quil's arm dropped as if I were suddenly red hot.

"You wanna start something?" He snarled, leaning round me to sneer at Jasper. "After all, you seem so desperate – maybe she'll get hurt in the fight."

Jasper's hands alighted on my bare shoulders and I realized how serious the situation truly was – I was the only thing he could never countenance breaking, and he was clinging onto me like a drowning man to a lifeline.

"Well?" Quil demanded.

"Much as I would enjoy tearing you to pieces for insulting Alice like that, no – not at my own wedding. But I'll thank you to keep your hands off my wife."

Quil moved suddenly until he was an inch away from Jasper's face, crushing me uncomfortably. "Like that word, don't you? Now that you own her _officially_."

"Hey!" I gave him a hard (and ineffectual) push. "I don't belong to anyone, _dog_. The fact that you talk about me like that – like I'm an object – is proof that you don't understand me at all!"

"No," Quil admitted, running a hand through his hair. "But I can at least claim that I know you better than he – him – _that_ – does. If you'd met me first – "

"We would have been together," I granted. "You put me back together, Quil, and I'll always love you for that." My voice became hard, and I fixed him with a steely glare. "But as it is, Jasper doesn't refer to me as if I were a vase. He doesn't insult me, he doesn't slight the people I love. It wasn't _you_ who saved me from the van and it wasn't _you_ who saved me from burglars and it wasn't _you_ who finally let me save you."

Jasper stroked my shoulder appreciatively.

"So suck it up, mister." I jabbed a finger into Quil's chest. "Because you _just weren_'_t there_."

Quil's frame had begun to vibrate the minute I had started ranting, and now he was quivering so fast that I could barely see him. Shreds of cloth and leather flew everywhere as an enormous chocolate brown wolf snarled at us and then pelted for the trees, yelping.

I felt the feather light touch of Jasper's fingers as they swept up and down my neck, checking for abrasions.

"It's okay," I reassured him, though my voice was shaking as hard as my hands. "No blood. No foul."

"I could kill him," He growled, and I turned, wrapping his arms around me.

"But you won't," I commanded, leaning my head into his chest. "You won't hurt him, because he can't help how he feels any more than you or I could."

"I would – I would – " Jasper's jaw was clenched so hard that he struggled to get the words out. "At least I would have let you go gracefully! Even as I love you with all my heart and all my soul, I would have let you go if that was what you wanted. If that was how you would be happy."

I laughed, surprising him, ever hopeful of drawing the conversation away from such a dismal and painful topic. "Well – I already knew that you were exceptional." He joined my laughter with his richer bass, the anger already beginning to fade from his eyes.

"So," He took my hand almost hesitantly. "Is it time for cake?"

"You seem excited."

"You haven't seen the cake."


	22. Colors

**_The honeymooooon is coming sooooon...  
BTW: go to h t t p : / / w w w . p h o t o b u c k e t .com/albums/ss200/jasperinmyroom/ (without the spaces at the beginning) for trendy True North wallpapers!_  
****

* * *

21. Color****s**

My wedding cake was magnificent – seven layers tall, made almost entirely of strawberries and white chocolate ganache and with enough trimmings to make a pastry cook weep with sheer admiration.

I was awed as Jasper swallowed the cake I shoved in his face, though not so much a second later when it was my turn to be humiliated.

Then came the inevitable removal of my borrowed garter which had, thank God, been made to fit Rosalie's perfectly sculpted thigh and not my scrawny chicken leg. I had it almost to my ankle when Jasper, to much raucous laughter, delicately removed it with his teeth (if only the guests knew _quite_ how dangerous that little maneuver was) and returned it to his sister with a chivalrous bow.

The cake had been eaten or wrapped up in napkins (sickeningly monogrammed with J & A in one corner) and the sky outside was genuinely darkening when Jasper politely requested the pleasure of my company for a dance.

My palms became slick with sweat and the sound of my heels tapping magnified to match the roaring of my breath in my ears as we took to the floor. And just when everything had been going so well…

"Don't worry," He whispered as we executed a few perfunctory turns. "There is nobody – _nobody_ – watching you but me. Close your eyes."

I dutifully did so, sighing, and in a brisk upwards movement I felt myself begin to spin effortlessly about the floor. On opening my eyes, I realized that my voluminous dress would hide this little bit of skullduggery from everyone else.

I was standing on his feet.

"Have I ever mentioned that you dance divinely, Mrs. Whitlock?" He inquired as we performed a waltz I hadn't even been aware existed.

"Have I ever mentioned that you lie awfully, Mr. Whitlock?"

"Very kind of you to say."

"Likewise."

He laughed, leaning forward to kiss my lips, lightly and lingeringly. At least ten camera flashes went off as we did so, and I pulled away, embarrassed.

"There's still so much I don't know about you," I said awkwardly, blushing a fiery scarlet as Emmett and Rosalie joined us on the dance floor, with a wink and a smile respectively. "Your favorite color, for example."

"It changes from day to day."

"Well, what is it today then?" I challenged. He deliberated for a few minutes, examining the room at large, before –

"Vermillion."

Vermillion? Didn't that mean…red? I recalled the glossy crimson drape of Kate's dress and my heart sank. With an inexplicable chuckle, Jasper leaned in, as if to kiss me again.

"It's the color of your cheeks," He informed me, our lips brushing in a mirror of what I had done to him earlier. The blood flowed back into my extremities.

"I no longer love you," I announced. "In fact, at this moment, I dislike you very much indeed."

Jasper's eyebrows shot up to meet his hairline. "Why?"

"For making me love today," I replied, leaning my head into his chest. The soft caress of his lips on my hair was feather light, the rumble beneath my cheek from suppressed laughter. We managed a good five minutes of calm contentment before I got my first cut in.

"Little sister," Emmett boomed, plucking me off Jasper like a piece of lint from a suit.

"Pastor," I countered as we began to twirl. He guffawed.

"Yeah, surprised you, didn't I? It was Jazz's idea to take the heat off you…I think he felt bad for that deal you two made." His face suddenly became more animated. "What was your end of the bargain, anyway?"

Luckily, that was when Mike Newton (who I swore to God I would never dislike again) came and claimed me, and I avoided Emmett like the plague for the rest of the evening.

I danced with practically everyone there – with Edward, with Eric, with Tyler (who scowled throughout, not taking half as kindly to the marriage as I'd hoped), with my dad, with Jared (who had turned up of his own accord quite happily), with Carlisle, and even with Jake who, unfortunately, could not dance, despite the secret Dirty Dancing fantasies I'd harbored for so long.

When I finally returned to Jasper, a thought struck me. "We haven't even decided where to go for our honeymoon yet!"

He grinned, implacable. "Already done."

"Already – arrgh!" I stamped hard on his foot in pure temper and, despite the sparks of pain which shot up my leg, the heel of my shoe held – obviously Rosalie had anticipated something of this nature.

"I _hate_ it when you do stuff like this!" I hissed. "Last time I had a surprise from you, you tied me to a trolley and drove said trolley cross country, with me bouncing the whole way! I still have bruises, you know," I added sulkily.

"Alice – "

"Don't you _Alice_ me. You are vile, deplorable, and – _why are you laughing_?!"

And he was – so hard that the waves of mirth rippled through me and made it difficult to stand there, po-faced; Jasper's laughter was just as alluring as Jasper himself, and we were attracting more attention than was entirely pertinent, considering it looked as though he hadn't breathed in a while.

"I'm never going to be bored with you, am I?" He said when the tides of gaiety had finally ebbed.

"Never," I concurred, still trying to keep up some semblance of the anger which had, a few minutes ago, been coursing through my veins.

Trouble was, it was incredibly hard to stay focused on being angry when his exquisite, flawless face was just a few inches above mine, stealing my breath and stopping my heart.

Love does some _crazy_ things to people…

"Why can't I stay mad at you?" I inquired in a distinctly non-frosty tone. "Are you using your freaky calming juju thing on me again?"

His tone was perfectly measured; face perfectly straight. "No, Alice, I am not using my freaky calming juju thing on you again. It's not my fault if you're helpless in the face of my charms. After all – you're only human."

I assessed him acutely from my proximate vantage point, wrinkling my nose. "Hmmm…I think not. You're not _that_ irresistible."

"So I am a little bit?" He teased.

"Don't push it. "

I gave him a few minutes of reprieve before the inevitable questioning began.

"So where are we going?"

"For what?"

"Thanksgiving - our honeymoon, of course!"

"I told you – it's a surprise."

"And I told _you_ I don't _like_ surprises!"

"You'll like this one."

"Do you want me to stamp on you again? Because I swear I – don't you even _think_ about kissing me again, Jasper Whitlock Hale!"

"I wouldn't dream of it," He told me sincerely, though his eyes sparkled wickedly. "But then, I haven't kissed you for a good – hmmm…half an hour? You should be crippled with withdrawal symptoms by now."

I almost snarled. "Have I ever told you that you're – "

"Irresistible?"

"The most annoying, egotistical and overall – "

"Adorable?"

"Asinine individual I have _ever_ met, and if I get a divorce on the grounds of incompatibility, it will be – "

"Impossible?"

"Not a moment too soon!"

I breathed heavily for a few moments, my fingers curled aound the tops of his arms, nails digging in for spite – though they were having as much effect as an mouse against a motorcycle.

"Better?" He quieried after a few hisses and some faint growls.

"Yes. Much," I said brightly, resuming a normal dancing position. Then, almost sheepishly, "You can kiss me now, if you'd like."

"I wouldn't want to impose."

"No, no – I'm offering."

"The very semblance of the image of a thought had not even begun to circulate, about the mere – "

"Jasper – "

"Alice." He curled one hand round the back of my neck. I stared deep into his glorious, topaz eyes. "Has it occurred to you that at this present moment we are in circumstances under which _you_ can kiss _me_?"

"My shoes," I breathed, the truth dawning.

"Your shoes. So, if you really wanted to, you could easily – "

"Easily do that?" I asked, a little breathless myself.

"I don't like surprises," He complained, tone mockingly acerbic.

"You liked that one."

* * *

_**One more time now **_**_–  
The honeymoooooooooon is coming soooooooooon!_**


	23. So Contagious

**

* * *

2****2. So Contagious**

"Are we there yet?" I asked despairingly as we exited yet _another_ connection flight.

"One more," Jasper soothed, rubbing my back in gentle circles. "Would you like to go and look at shoes while we wait?"

"No," I answered mournfully. "Judging by the weight of my luggage, I have more shoes than I'll ever need in ten lifetimes. I could use a shake, though. And something warm and greasy, preferably of the food persuasion."

"And there I was going to find you a nice warm, greasy porter," He teased.

I aimed a halfhearted shove with a copy of Vogue his way, then gave up and allowed him to tow me towards one of the many fast food restaurants that plied their trade in the airport's terminal.

After a large milkshake and a bag of incredibly greasy (and spicy) potato wedges (nicknamed 'jojos' back in Ye Olde Pacific Northwest), I felt revived enough to go and stroke a few pairs of Ferragamos while Jasper conversed with the shopkeeper in a language not at all unlike Spanish. With a nod and a smile, he returned to me.

"Seen anything you like?" He asked, arching an eyebrow at my predictable answer.

"Nope," I replied staunchly, folding my arms and inwardly wincing at the sight of a pair of darling little teal cut out stilettos which would normally retailed, or so the label's translation told me, at 960 US.

_Petty cash_, a devious voice in my ear informed me.

Shut up.

Instead I took Jasper's hand, leading him on a grand sweep of the shoe racks. "Why would I," I inquired grandly. "Need any of these? My waters run deeper than that of a…a…a shoe fetishist!"

Jasper blinked in surprise. "Any minute now you'll tell me you'll no longer be a Capulet. You can't change your spots, Alice."

"I _can_," I said stiffly, sticking my nose in the air.

"Ah, well." He sighed. "You won't be wanting these, then…"

"These?" My ears practically pricked. "These _what_?" I inspected the bag that was clasped nonchalantly in one of his white hands. "That had better not be an Oscar de la Renta bag." I peeped inside. "That had better not be the box for the Italian made, off white with navy trim cutout beaded slingbacks with embroidered and beaded uppers, plus a buckled ankle strap, a four and a half inch stacked column heel _and_ a peep toe that sell in Neiman Marcus for $895, or I will be very, _very_ cross."

Jasper shrugged. "Wedding present."

"But I haven't got anything for you!"

He chuckled, lightly kissing the tip of my nose. "The wedding _was_ my present, remember? Now let's go and get on the plane, so you can ask me if we're there yet some more."

* * *

"Where _are_ we?" I breathed, awed, several hours of sleep later.

"It would ruin the – "

"Forget I asked."

The city we were circling above was sprawling, dust colored; irregular shaped buildings rose out of the shades of tan and cinnamon and sienna to greet us as we slowly descended towards a sprawling gray landing strip. At least a day and several time changes after we'd left, it was just noon, and the air outside the windows shimmered with repressed heat. I shivered in anticipation.

"It looks beautiful,"

"It'll boil your blood," Jasper warned. "It's hotter than hell out there – or, more accurately, hotter than Forks High School's cafeteria when the gym floods and twenty boys have to do bench presses in there, while trying not to take each other's eyes out with a barbell."

"You've done that?"

"No," He admitted. "But Edward has."

"And how did he find the experience?"

Jasper grinned in recollection. "Most of the boys were thinking about Bella – I think it was probably one of the worst gym sessions he's ever had."

The plane touched town with a thud which made us all bounce (except Jasper who, of course, stayed steady as a rock), and then the stewardess began to walk down the aisle as the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom.

We were one of the first rows to be dismissed, and I greeted the scorching heat wave with a beatific smile and a fit of nostalgia. Forks may be my home now but Phoenix was my birthplace; the mythical firebird which blazed into oblivion before returning to another incarnation. The heat of this new city was dry, sultry, and heavy with cloud – just perfect.

Jasper, stepping out behind me, inhaled deeply and took my hand. As a Texan (originally, in any case), he knew how I felt.

"Nice day," He commented.

"My kind of day," I agreed.

The terminal was stifling, and looked like it hadn't been updated since the seventies. Retro, in a cute sort of way, though I wouldn't usually have thought so – everything about the heat was making me happy, making me feel as if my bones were melting.

Our luggage managed one creaky rotation round the carousel before either of us recognized it. When the time had come to leave, Rosalie had simply wheeled three huge Louis Vuitton suitcases over to me, informing me casually that they were already packed, and that there was no need to thank her. I wondered how much of the cases' contents actually belonged to me (in the sense that I would already be acquainted with it) and just how expensive the contents of an approximately two and a half thousand dollar suitcase could be.

"Why is it," I grumbled, struggling to heft all three cases (in various shades of Vert Tonic, Pomme D'Amour and Amarante) at once. "That you _always_ get the hold-all?"

"Because I don't let Rosalie pack for me," The oh-so-_infuriating_ vampire replied, choosing the nicely complimenting apple green and crimson suitcases to remove from my grasp, leaving me with the chocolate brown one. "And have refused to let her do so since the day after I moved in. Now, I have to find a cab that will take all this."

"Why?"

"We're going," He informed me with a smile. "To the harbor."

* * *

"What's he saying?!" I yelled for the umpteenth time over the noisy rap that thundered through the car. Jasper had gotten to ride shotgun while I hauled ass in the back with the cases. He shot me an over the shoulder grin.

"He's complaining about his wife! Or possibly his girlfriend, I'm not sure!"

I harrumphed and massaged my throbbing ears.

Our cab driver, Raúl, had seemed perfectly pleasant and even normal when Jasper had first engaged him to take us to the harbor. All too soon, however, the windows were shut (turning what had been a relatively basic cab into a roasting oven), the doors were locked, and T.I. was banging on about how rappers nowadays are comedy. It was, quite literally, Hell on Earth.

Jasper was having a whale of a time. Stupid frigid vampire skin.

Still, we eventually got to the water and Raúl helpfully pointed us in the direction we (supposedly) wanted.

My soon to be divorced husband led me through a maze of dockland and dockers before we eventually reached a tiny jetty that seemed in better repair than most of the others, and I saw what we had come to see.

The motor boat was sleekly white and gleaming, with hard, powerful lines which meant she'd cut through the water. Plush upholstered seats and a small bar completed the picture, though we were a little lower in the water than was entirely prudent once all our (well, mostly my) luggage was aboard.

"Life preserver," Jasper instructed, not waiting for an answer before he was strapping me into one.

"Aren't _you_ going to wear one?" I asked pointedly.

"I can't drown."

"I can swim, you know. I won't necessarily drown if I fall out."

"No. You'll be too busy getting shredded by the propeller."

He had a point, even if it was sort of semi-moot. After all, I knew he could easily catch me before I even hit the water.

The journey was blissful, though; the water smooth, crystal blue, and so clear that I could see thousands of tiny silver fish flickering just a few inches above the sandy bottom. The air smelt like salt and that odd buttery tang you get from hidden sunshine, and the breeze whipping past my face was deliciously cool, shot through with sea spray.

"Can you see it?" Jasper called over the roar of foaming water.

"What?" I flipped upright from my recumbent position on the couch cushions, lowering my sunglasses (so what if it was cloudy?) and inspecting the horizon. It was raised slightly – a strip of green becoming clearer and sharper by the second.

"Yes," I called back. "What is it?"

He looked over at me from the wheel, dangerous white teeth flashing in a broad grin.

"Isle Esme."


	24. River Flows In You

**_Enjoy..._

* * *

23. River Flows In You**

"Isle _Esme_?" I repeated, still awed and dumbstruck even though we had been there for several hours and the sun was setting gloriously – here, on the private beach, where no one could see Jasper glitter but me.

"So romantic, don't you think?"

"Yeah," I agreed sarcastically. "Because nothing says 'I love you' like an _entire_ island…"

"You don't like it?" His tone was anxious; the eagerness to please so palpable it was almost comical.

"It's beautiful," I reassured him. "Just don't get any ideas. I'm not expecting any Isle Alices in my future…"

He laughed, playfully rumpling my hair with one shimmering hand. "Can I at least name a star after you?"

"Are you kidding? That's even worse! That's like naming the Sun after me!"

"Hmmm…I wonder…" He caught sight of my expression and grinned impishly, the wind ruffling his golden hair. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding!"

"Good," I muttered. "Because I'd really _hate_ to have to commit mariticide on the first day of our honeymoon…"

The sand squished pleasantly between my toes as we walked along the dunes, Jasper looking alarmingly like a star himself, so bright was he shining. When I voiced this opinion, however, he just shook his head.

"It would be completely ridiculous to have a star named Jasper."

"And it wouldn't be to have named Alice?"

In a movement so fast I couldn't track it, I suddenly found myself on my back, half buried in the powdery, holiday commercial white sand. Jasper hovered over me, framing my face with his elbows, his body just inches above mine. The space between us felt charged with a million points of electricity, thrumming as the current fluctuated.

"No," He replied, and we could've been sitting at the kitchen table for all the inflection it carried. "In fact, it would be a highly feasible idea."

My torso lifted imperceptibly from the ground as I was subconsciously drawn in by the sweet perfume of vampire skin. His form blocked out the light, but I was not in shadow – his shimmering, unfaceted skin bouncing rainbow patterns across the sand.

"You don't know how long I've waited for this." His voice was low, gentle – the faint Southern accent adding a soft drawl to his words. "You don't know how long I've dreamed of you."

The breath I drew was shaky, and I trembled from some repressed emotion that I hadn't yet learned to name. My answer wasn't enough – could never be enough – but it was all I had for this ancient, beautiful creature who had waited so very long to feel the way that I did now.

"I love you," I whispered. "More than my own life."

"Plus ma propre vie."

"It sounds so much more romantic in French."

"Everything sounds more romantic in French," He corrected, and kissed me.

And, as always, I took it too far. Breathed too hard, clung on too tightly, stayed still for too long – but for once, he didn't seem to mind. His fingers were tangled in my hair, breath cool on my hot mouth, lean frame a welcome shade from the last few burning rays of the dying day. My fingers locked unbreakably round his neck, crushing myself into the kiss as my heart beat double, triple, quadruple time against my ribs. Eventually, though, Jasper gently entangled himself from my grasp and pulled me to my feet. I stumbled a little, dizzy.

"Are you faint from the head rush, or was it my kissing expertise?"

"Both," I replied, wishing the beach would stop spinning.

He let me stay still for a second, steadying my elbow with one cool hand. Then he took my hand, and my palm tingled as that odd spark jumped between us once more. It almost stung in intensity, and Jasper looked at me curiously.

I kept my mouth shut, my eyes straight ahead; I knew what was coming, and it terrified me just as much as it made my pulse jump in anticipation.

I had held up my part of the deal; now Jasper would have to hold up his. And, with a new strange intensity and electricity between us that I couldn't even begin to fathom, I knew that neither of us could last much longer. Every obstacle had been removed, every obstruction that had stood in our way.

The time had come.

* * *

I double locked the bathroom door, slumping back against the wood with a sigh. Time had been bought. The shower seemed like a good escape route – soothing hot water and familiar scents – but a minute later I was in the stall, fully clothed, lukewarm water hissing down on me as I crouched in the fetal position, rocking slowly backward and forward.

In my just over nineteen years, I had never been as scared as I was then. Other children had run away from clowns. Spiders. Their parents had checked under the bed and in the wardrobe for witches and boogey men. Now, I was frightened of an experience that practically every sentient human being on the planet had either had or would have, at least once: Jake and Sara – Ben and Angela – Quil and…well, Quil and _somebody_ – my parents –

Oh God no. I _did_ not need that thought in my head right now. That way, I would spend the night vomiting instead of doing…other things.

On second thoughts, vomiting might be the better option.

Deep, calming yoga breaths. Deep, _calming_ yoga breaths.

_It_'_s not working_, my brain supplied helpfully.

_Fine_ then. If you're going to be _difficult_, then the old mantra it is. Deep breath, and –

Stop freaking _out_. Stop freaking _out_. Stop freaking _out_. Stop freaking – okay, I was freaking out. My heart was beating like a rabbit's, my palms were slick, and – and there was a tap on the door.

"Alice?"

"No!" I wailed, my voice distorted by the roar of the shower. Jasper came in anyway; halting when he saw me curled in the stall, clothes on, chewing my fingernails like a mad woman.

It was a credit to him, however, that he just didn't turn tail and flee, escaping the room (and the island) as so many other guys would have when faced with a hysterical nineteen year old having an aneurysm over the fact that she's planning on having sex with you. He just sighed and came to sit beside me, ignoring the spray which immediately drenched him.

"You know, if you don't want to do this – if you're not…_ready_ for this – then we don't have to do it."

"I – " I bit my lip, unable to deny what I felt – what I'd always felt – when faced with his perfection everyday.

"I do," I whispered. "I am. I'm just _so scared_."

He took my hand. "For what it's worth – so am I."

"You are?" I was surprised; even more so when he pulled me to my feet.

"Of course! It would be impossible for me _not_ to be! Can I control myself? Could I ever control myself when…when you make me feel so confused, confused in the best way in the world? I've had a long, long life." He smiled. "And this is one of the most important experiences of it."

"Mine too," I murmured, gazing up at him. His honey blond hair had darkened to brown and was flat to his skull, water dripping from each strand. I fought a strong (and unreasonable) desire to laugh.

"You're soaking."

"So?"

I took a deep breath. Then, slowly, ever so slowly, I unbuttoned his shirt and pulled the sodden blue fabric away from his arms, disregarding the tremors that emanated from my fingers. He was surprisingly muscular, not half as lean as he appeared covered up.

Jasper leaned down, cupping my face between his marble hands. "Alice. We're in a shower."

I felt a slow, irrepressible grin spread itself across my lips as my last reserves of fear evaporated.

"So?"


	25. Paradise Is In Your Eyes

**_Because why hold a competition when you can write it yourself?  
_

* * *

24. ****Paradise Is In Your Eyes**

It would have been too easy to give in that night – to surrender completely to the fire and ice of pain and pleasure, endlessly interwoven so that his sin was my sin and no sin at all. It was hard to remember that we were Jasper and Alice, deeply in love newlyweds, and not simply two souls, burning brightly in the blanket of darkness.

If I abandoned myself during that time, he brought me back.

"Alice – look at me."

I moaned, the sound a mingling of both repressed gratification and annoyance. "Not now…"

"Look at me!"

The command was so surprising that it shot me upright, eyes that had been half-lidded in contentment snapping open at the force of his words.

If I expected anger, I got nothing like it. Jasper shone like a wraith in the dark, marble hands cupping my face, pulling me to him, until we were nose to nose and eye to eye. It was then that I understood the reason for his request.

There was a universe burning within each glowing iris and dark pupil, a million tongues of flame embracing over and over before sinking into a black chasm. My breath caught in a long hitch and his lips found mine in the gloom, marble smooth, commanding and caressing as I was pushed back down into the deep, yielding softness of the bed.

I found that in love, no one gives in.

No one gives up.

He held me in the darkness before dawn as my euphoric trembling slowed, kissing away the tears that coursed unbidden down my cheeks. The words he whispered were breaths of sound and assonance in my ear; barely audible, each sending a tiny aftershock through my body.

"Mine, my own, mine, oh Alice, Alice, mine…"

* * *

"Mmmm…"

"Good morning."

I opened my eyes to harsh, blinding white sunlight and immediately flung an arm over my face. An arm which, I realized, ached.

"Okay," I said, sitting upright with a wince. "How bad is it?"

Jasper appraised me with teasing topaz eyes. "_You_ could never be called bad."

I rolled my eyes. "Stop asserting your marital rights and tell me the truth already."

There was a long, pregnant pause, during which I kept my eyes stoically averted from my own skin. My skin, however, seemed to be the only thing that Jasper could look at.

"It could be worse," He admitted finally.

I took courage from that pronouncement. With a deep breath, I shakily held my arms out in front of me. "Oh. Okay. Wow."

My arms (as well as the rest of my body) were stained with purple blotches. Some blushed pale blue, indicating more bruising yet to come, while others were at their height, radiant in deep plum.

"Well," I said, craning my neck to try and catch a glimpse of my back. "Most of these I can account for. But how the heck did I get _this_ one?"

Jasper pointed to another bruise, so dark it was almost black. "While you were getting that one."

"And this one?"

"Can be matched to the one on your thigh, yes." His face dropped a little. "Are you very angry with me?"

"Why should I be angry with you?"

"Alice! Look what I've done to you!"

"No," I corrected, shuffling painfully to his side and tucking my head beneath his chin. "Look what _we_'_ve_ done to me. I think it's rather spectacular, actually. But I bruise easily, anyhow. So don't you," I pulled away, twisting round and kissing the tip of his nose. "Ruin something that was just so…perfect."

One side of Jasper's mouth quirked up in a sheepish smile. "I think I got a bit carried away."

"You're not the only one." I leaned back further, assessing his face. "But it was _definitely_ something to get carried away about."

"Yes," He admitted. "How about you? Hormones satisfied?"

I wriggled, wincing at the movement. "I think so…for now."

He laughed and wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me back into the plush pillows.

"You appear to have detached a good deal of bed frame," I observed, gingerly lowering my fingers into the deep grooves his gouging digits must have made.

"Better that than you."

"True."

We sat in silence for a few blissful moments, simply enjoying the radiant sunshine (and, as for me, the ensuing light and color show).

"But you're hurting," He said, finally.

"A little." I had to grit my teeth as I shifted to a more comfortable position, but the consequences were more than worth the actions. One pounding heart and two endless, rushing streams of breath had been the only things to break the silence of our solitude…

I was pulled roughly from my reverie as I was hoisted aloft. "Hey!"

"Hot water," Jasper soothed. "Hot water will help your muscles."

"You just like seeing me naked," I accused.

He nodded as if it _that_ were blatantly apparent. "Of course I do. But as I'm planning on an existence where neither of us ever puts clothes on again, seeing you in the shower is an easy trade for not being in there with you."

When we entered the bathroom, however, we were greeted by a surprise.

"Where's the shower?" I asked blankly, peeking upwards at Jasper's expression. From what I could see, he was almost as stunned as I was.

"That _is_ the shower."

"Oh."

What had one been a floor to ceiling cylinder of glass now consisted of a broken pipe, several smashed tiles and a plethora of shards of glass littering the floor. I covered my mouth with one hand.

"Did we do _that_?"

Jasper still looked astounded. "I believe so."

"That explains the…um…"

"Yes. That does explain that one." Astonishingly enough, he grinned down at me. "If you're not dead, then…then I must have been very, very good."

"Hey! Don't you go ego stroking on me. You mean, of course, that _we_ must have been very, very good."

"Well you were perfectly satisfactory, obviously."

"Obviously."

"And we need to find another bathroom, quick."

I frowned. "Why quick?"

"You know all those things you used to say about spontaneous combustion?"

"Yes?"

"I think I'm beginning to understand what you mean."

* * *

I slept for a long time after we'd _eventually_ found another shower (it took so long partly because of the villa's sheer size, and partly because Jasper insisted on kissing me in every room we passed on the way). Earlier, I'd finally slipped into slumber just after dawn, and I was still exhausted now. When I woke, it was to the sensation of gentle cold fingers making their ponderous way along my cheekbone.

"Are you always this lazy when you get what you want?" The fingers' owner inquired.

"I don't know," I replied, not opening my eyes. "I don't think I've ever gotten what I want quite so dramatically before."

He chuckled.

"And you?"

"I am – how can I put this? – feeling remarkably lazy at this present moment."

"And we could just stay in bed all day…"

"Alice. We're on a tropical island. There's swimming, scuba diving, miles of white sanded beach – "

I opened my eyes, blinking laboriously at the bouncing sparkles as the afternoon sun hit Jasper's chest and slanted off at a dazzling angle. I slid under the arm nearest to me, pressing a kiss into the curve of the white shoulder blade.

"Or," Jasper continued, tilting my chin up to kiss my mouth. "We could just stay in bed all day. I'm open – " His lips moved to my collarbone. "To that."

"I knew you'd end up seeing it my way."


	26. Now You Feel It, Now You Don't

**_Oh readers, you are great, you are glorious, you are incandescent and beautiful and you all smell more fragrant than a dozen bouquets. I prostrate myself at your feet, begging mercy for my sins, and pleading that you will someday forgive me.  
This chapter has been written and re-written forty three times. It's taken four months of work, and it follows the format of how I will be re-writing the True North Saga.  
Please please PLEASE listen to Beautiful World by Carolina Liar. it inspired a lot of this.  
Enjoy. Review, and please kick my ass. I've missed it.  
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**25. Now You Feel It, Now You Don't**

We spent several days that way – wrapped up in each other (both metaphorically and literally), careless of the world. I woke up on the morning of our one week anniversary with peace in my heart and happiness already spreading through my veins like warmth. I was nineteen, in the most beautiful place in the world _and_ getting some (well, a lot). What was there to be depressed about?

Giving a contented little hum, I rolled over (expecting to come into contact with some form of arm/chest/neck/extraneous body part occupying the designated 'Jasper' space), but instead I sank into a vacant area of cotton sheets with a thread count high enough to make my eyes water. One hand came into contact with something smooth and rustling, and I cracked an eyelid to see a neatly folded piece of paper trapped beneath my palm. Grimacing slightly, I unfolded the perfect square (great – I married the obsessive compulsive) and squinted through the harsh sunlight at the round, well shaped letters that were nothing short of eons away from my crabbed, spiky handwriting.

There was no salutation at the top – instead, a neat little sketch of a girl with short, spiky hair and a serene expression on her face served as a greeting. I self-consciously ran my fingers across my own scalp, noting that the doodle's hairstyle had more the proportions of a bob than a pixie. I hadn't been able to get it cut before the wedding (Rosalie had claimed that she needed a canvas to work on, not a postage stamp), and the strands were closer to my chin than was comfortable. I hadn't had long hair since the time when I hadn't cared about anything at all, least of all split ends – but an enterprising airport stylist had hacked off the dangerous growth on my way back from Volterra. In any case, I needed a haircut soon, and I didn't know of any stylist within a hundred miles, let alone one that would understand my demands for 'corto, _muy_ corto'.

Underneath my miniature, Jasper had explained that he was on the mainland, hunting, and would probably be gone all day. It was good to see him actually doing it without being pushed; he hadn't felt easy about leaving me alone for a long time. Perhaps here, on a deserted island (complete with sharks – well, probable sharks – sea anemones – probably – and myriad other pointy things – more than likely) he felt it was safe to drop the role of hovering vulture and go and do something that I guessed was actually quite enjoyable, as well as vital for his continued wellbeing. He advised me to do some 'actual honeymooning' while he was away, since all we ever did was – anyway. It made sense to do some exploring, some tanning, and maybe eat something that didn't have the calorific content of a plane wreck while he was gone.

Unfortunately, the absence of a six foot three inches tall air conditioner (Jasper radiated pure cold – a welcome escape from the island's crushing heat) meant that even as I rolled back over to survey the lazily rotating ceiling fan, tiny beads of sweat popped on my forehead. I struggled out of the suffocating sheets and took a long, lukewarm shower, before adding a robe and slippers to my otherwise bare ensemble and padding off down the corridor.

After thirty five minutes and fifty two seconds, I stumbled upon the Promised Land. It was the size of a hockey pitch, made entirely from stainless steel and contained a refrigerator so big that I had to plant my feet firmly and _yank_ in order to open the door. Inside, continuing the biblical metaphor, there was food for five thousand. Literally – five _thousand_. As well as the usual assortment of milk, eggs, butter, sharp cheddar, Little Debbie snack cakes, Reese's peanut butter cups and jelly beans, there were large chunks of meat with so much rippling muscle that they verged on menacing, not to mention small, unidentifiable things in Tupperware containers that may or may not have been moving. I wondered who had stocked the fridge – it had to have been done by human hands (Jasper couldn't tell a doughnut from a bagel, let alone a Little Debbie from a Yodel), but what kind of psychopathic ex-circus freak bearded lunatic would have poured rice into the vegetable crisper and added a topping of soda cans?

No matter what variety of life form had done the honors, I was still starving. My anniversary breakfast consisted of apple flavored Jolly Ranchers, a large hunk of cheese and what may have _possibly_ been fish. In any case, it was all very nice, and I slipped into what was apparently my bikini (it was made of what appeared to be fishnet, laced together with ribbons, looked like it had been made for a go-go dancer and had a label written in Swedish), feeling as virtuous as you possibly can when your spouse is a vampire. To add to the righteousness that surely must have been coming off me in waves, I lathered up in sunscreen. Rosalie had helpfully supplied three different kinds (along with the wardrobe of a very expensive stripper), and I chose the one with the highest SPF. I may be as pale as a ghost, but I both burn and bruise like a peach.

However, when I got out on the beach, any thoughts of exploring disappeared from my head, whipped away by the beauty of the scene. When I was with Jasper, everything paled next to his magnificence – but here and now, I doubted I'd ever seen any landscape more beautiful. The sun bounced in arcs off sand that was so blindingly white I had to screw up my eyes and squint to even see at all. There was no horizon but the wide blue ocean – endless, eternal. Waves rolled over and over in a lover's caress, poetry on the water, white capped.

It was scorching, of course, but there was no way I was going inside. I stood at the water's edge, darting back and forth in the surf as I had when I was a child. Then I remembered what I'd had for breakfast, and had to run inside to vomit. It was typical: my first ever vacation outside the US (Volterra _so_ didn't count), and I had Delhi belly. Well, obviously not Delhi belly – more like somewhere-in-South-America stomach. I crouched over the porcelain rim, heaving again and again until my stomach seemed empty. Then I threw up some more, just for good measure. Perhaps it was sunstroke?

However, I found that after some water I was much better. I returned to the beach, amazed at how much time I'd spent on the bathroom floor. I silently thanked God that I'd smuggled some of my own clothes into my case (via the helpful offices of sister-in-law-extraordinaire, Bella Cullen) and pulled a kaftan over my go-go dancer outfit. Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades, my thighs – anywhere that had even the vaguest idea of friction. The landscape flickered brighter and sharper, then returned to its normal resolution. What was wrong with me?

Time passed. The sun moved. I lay still on the damp sand, enjoying the feel of it between my toes. Only one week, and I already felt calmer – easier. Longer hair smoothed out the sharp angles of my face, and decadence and lazing around made the lines of my body softer. It was as if someone had taken a picture of me and blurred the pixels out – I felt different all over, and it made me sleepy. I raised my head briefly to watch the sun sink into the horizon, striping the sky with wide bands of bruise and purple, harsh contrast to the blood red horizon that turned the sea to wine. Eventually, when the sky was a deep lavender and the stars were beginning to come out, I reasoned with myself that I should get back in the house – maybe try and eat something that my stomach wouldn't throw back out, though I had no idea what that might be.; some of the food in that fridge definitely verged on the unidentifiable. No wonder I felt ill.

When I finally dragged myself up and turned towards the high dunes, I saw a sight that made my stomach feel full with butterflies. Jasper arched an eyebrow at me as I stopped short. His shirt was open over the icy planes of his chest, and his eyes seemed more silver than gold in the starlight.

"You smell like salt," he informed me conversationally as I pressed my face into his shoulder.

"Mmmm."

"I missed you." He leaned down, sliding his nose gently along my collarbone. My heartbeat sped into overdrive (why? Why would it never learn?). "And apparently you missed me too. Your blood is singing."

"Mmmm."

"Is that all you plan on saying?"

"Nmmm."

"I have ways of making you talk, Mrs. Whitlock."

"Hmmm."

He laughed. "Fine." Suddenly my feet parted contact with the cooling sand and I was hoisted aloft, once again bridal style and at the mercy of my vampire groom.

"What are you doing?"

"Making up for lost time," Groomzilla replied, carrying me with inhuman speed into the house, through the halls and into the only shower we hadn't thus far wrecked.

Jasper was right. He did have ways of making me talk. Whether what I said was coherent, well – that didn't really matter.

**~#~**

"So," I said the next morning, feeling entirely worn out and blissful. "I think we've established that they are several parts of me you're rather attached to." We were in bed, me comfortably perched on Jasper's thighs in the cross legged pose of a yogi. It was hilarious for me because it was annoying for him – he couldn't get up without jarring me (I'd gained some particularly spectacular bruises the previous night – the shower was art deco, so you can see what I mean), so he simply had to lay there and listen to my provocative comments without doing anything about them. They do say that a good balance of power keeps a relationship alive, and seeing as one half of ours was already dead with the other half soon to follow, I figured we could use as much help as we could get.

"Yes," Jasper agreed, trying to squirm and failing.

"Well, I'm inclined to return the favor. Has anyone ever told you what gorgeous…_elbows_ you have?"

He'd obviously been spending the time when I was being turned into a Barbie doll with my father, because he demonstrated the familial harrumph. "No, Alice. You are the first person ever to comment on the sheer exquisiteness of my elbows."

"Hmmm," I mused. "And not just your elbows. Your shoulders are pretty spectacular too, not to mention your knees. All your joints, really."

Jasper raised one hand dramatically to cover his eyes. "I can just see us in marriage counseling – 'So, Mrs. Whitlock, which feature of your partner do you find most attractive?' 'His elbows, of course, Reverend – I married him for his elbows.'"

I leaned down, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. Jasper turned his face into my hair as I murmured, "There are other parts of you I like." He smirked so broadly I could feel it, but I was ready for him. I sat up and smiled.

"Your nose, for example."

The smirk dropped off his face like a heavy fridge magnet. "That was low."

"No," I corrected. "This is." Readjusting myself into a _slightly_ more precarious position (where self-control was concerned), I pressed my lips to his and allowed him to take the lead for a while. We molded around each other like we had the first night, like every night – as if he were pulling something out of me, drawing out a part of me and breathing in a little of himself.

As it turns out, he was drawing something out. I was on the bathroom floor in five seconds flat.

"You should've told me," Jasper said sternly, ineffectually trying to hold my hair back and realizing he didn't need to.

"It's nothing."

"You're sick today. You were sick yesterday. You smell different."

"It's nothing," I repeated, standing up and swaying dangerously on my feet. "I just need to get used to the heat is all. No biggie."

He didn't look convinced.

For the next few days, our activities weren't exactly what you would call strenuous – long, romantic walks on the beach, DVD watching in the home cinema (I got sick of Jason Bourne all too quickly) and no more shower wrestling. Ailing people, according to Jasper, needed beds. And husbands. And husbands in their beds. What can I say? The whole nursing thing was hot. As was the weather, and it was nice to have my air conditioner back. Though the sickness had subsided, I still felt tired – so tired that I got Jasper to carry me round piggyback for one whole morning. I didn't tell him why, though.

Then, to crown it all, we got the phone call. _The _phone call. The family had, up until that point, been maintaining radio silence. Despite appearances, the Cullens obviously understood the word 'privacy', something my parents could do with brushing up on. Anyway, I answered the phone, because Jasper was doing something complicated with two tomatoes, some scrambled eggs and smoked sausage. "Hello?"

"Alice?"

"Rosalie!" I squealed, tucking the phone under my chin and giving Jasper a thumbs up. Whatever he was making smelt divine. "How are you? How is everyone? Did you manage to clean up okay after the wedding? I mean, there were so many people, and –"

"How adverse are you to coming home?" Her voice hit me like a splash of cold water, and my insides seemed to fill up with dread. When I tried to reply, my voice quavered.

"Wh-why? Is everything okay? Is _everyone_ okay?"

"History, Alice," Rosalie said simply. "If you come back, it is more than likely than history will be made. Emily Young wants you at her wedding."

"So I'll go."

"It's the day after tomorrow."

"Oh." The doom and gloom factor had evaporated, but now I just felt hollow. Both Emily _and_ Quil had warred with their natures in order to attend my wedding. Emily had cared for me when I couldn't care for myself. Leah herself would be a bridesmaid – oh. Poor Leah. Poor poor Leah, who was the strongest person I knew. And now she needed me.

"The deal," Rosalie continued, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Is that if you attend the wedding, they wolves will abolish the part of the treaty which bans us from hunting on their land. It's monumental, Alice. There's game in those woods we haven't been able to _touch_ and we've had to go farther and farther afield to find anything –"

"I'll come."

"And everyone's been getting so stressed about – what?"

"I'll come," I repeated, noticing from the corner of my eye that Jasper had stopped cooking and was now watching me, his golden head cocked to one side. "We're family, Rosalie. What hurts you hurts me. What helps us helps us all. I'm sure that in a few months –" I darted a glance at Jasper. He raised one eyebrow. "I'll be happier than anyone that there's more game."

"I know it's a lot to ask when you're on your honeymoon –"

"It's nothing, honestly." I could've laughed at the expression on Jasper's face. He looked completely bamboozled, oblivious to the fact that his concoction was smoking slightly. "I love Isle Esme, but the weather's hot enough to knock me for six, on top of all the added risks of sharp coral, French doors, miscellaneous objects in the fridge –"

Rosalie promised to call the airlines and book all our many, many plane tickets. She also gave me a long list of things she needed from the duty free, several of which I wondered at the purpose off. Egg beaters? Who needs those? In any case, I dutifully promised to purchase any and all of her requests, reassured her several times that I was not at all annoyed at the curtailing of my honeymoon, and hung up with a grin just beginning to tug up the corners of my mouth.

"So," I announced to the kitchen in general. "We're going home."

The frying pan caught fire.


	27. Dead Man's Overstatement

**_My beta reader has mysteriously disappeared - seriously! Where for art thou, Hymnophile? In the meantime, please report any and all mistakes. Have a grammar lesson, readers.  
Oh, and that means I'm looking for an interim beta. Any takers?  
Enjoy._**

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**26. ****Dead Man****'s Overstatement  
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The entire Cullen family deserved frequent flier privileges. Hunting mad vampires, rescue missions, weekends away, honeymoons…an odd wave of nostalgia settled on me as we once again touched down at Sea-Tac airport. I had had to run to the bathroom almost the second we were airborne, and now Jasper was watching me like an oversized, overprotective hawk. I kept reassuring him that I was okay – that it was only the last remnants of my heatstroke, mixed with travel sickness – but he didn't look convinced. To be honest, neither was I – I found myself wondering how hard it would be to visit a doctor on the sly.

His cool hand had remained tightly wrapped around mine throughout each flight and stopover, but the other spasmodically clenched and relaxed on the armrest. I hoped he wouldn't crush it – it would be pretty hard to explain how a bar of metal and plastic had been twisted into oblivion by my spouse's fretful fingers.

"Hey." I ran my fingertips across the top of the hand I held captive, trying to soothe him as we taxied none too gently to a halt. "We're home now. It'll be okay. I'll be fine."

"I've heard you say that before."

"Well, believe it." My voice came out sounding fiercer than I'd intended, but I couldn't bring myself to apologize. My temper seemed to be all over the place these days. I'd heard of the honeymoon effect, and I feared that was what I was experiencing, only worse – after all, we weren't going to settle into domesticity. We weren't going to hunt for jobs, have kids, grow old and die. We would be perfect and beautiful and rich forever, and now that the moment of acceptance was almost upon me I wasn't sure whether I was pleased at its coming.

The air hostesses came round with trash bags as we prepared to leave, and I dropped my uneaten food in with a rueful smile. I'd never eaten plane food before, and when I'd taken my first bite I realized why – it was really and truly vomit worthy. The dish was simple enough – bacon and cheddar stuffed chicken with a side of steam-your-own vegetables – and the aroma had been appealing enough to persuade me to give it a try. Big mistake.

"You barely touched your food." Jasper's voice broke into my inner musings on that subject precisely.

"It tasted foul."

"You haven't been eating at all normally recently. Weird cravings, odd combinations of food –"

"Maybe I'm hormonal!" I snapped. "Or better still, maybe you're watching me a little too closely!" I unbuckled the thick seatbelt which crossed my lap, pushing myself up off the seat and into the aisle. _Let him carry the hand luggage,_ I thought irritably. _Stupid__,__ snooping__,__ super strong vampire husband of mine_. I pushed past two affronted businessmen and the copilot, stepping gratefully into the cool dimness of a Pacific Northwest evening. The sky was a hazy violet, tiny pinpricks of starlight just beginning to filter through the cloud cover. A light rain whipped my face, and the air smelt comfortingly of damp leaves and jet fuel.

Home.

The knot of pride in my stomach seemed to loosen as I breathed in the fresh, moist air. I felt a swell of love for my surroundings, even if it was still a plane ride to Port Angeles and then an hour's drive to Forks. A familiar hand alighted on my shoulder and I leaned back into him, closing my eyes and inhaling deeply.

"I'm sorry."

"Me too. I'm just worried about you."

"Yeah, I know. Hey –" I pivoted on the spot, widening my eyes and batting my lashes as I gazed up into his tawny eyes. "You wanna steal a trolley and run back to town?"

Jasper grinned. "No ma'am. Last time I did that, my girlfriend got really mad." His smile stretched wider as I moved in closer, wrapping my arms around his waist and leaning into his chest for a sniff. I didn't think I'd ever get tired of the smell; I only hoped that I could grow a few feet more so I wasn't just above belly button level. It would make life _so_ much easier. "Besides," he continued. "It's raining. You'll catch cold, and I'll get even more obsessive and vulture-like than I already am. It's the plane for us, I'm afraid."

"We're being met at the airport," I guessed. "You're planning something."

His eyes sparkled. "Maybe."

"Whatever it is, it'd better not involve singing in Spanish." I removed my bags from his now somewhat relaxed hand and we made our way down the steps and into the terminal. Once we were inside, he leaned down, brushed his lips ever so gently against mine…and took the bags back.

Marriage really has no effect on some people.

_**~#~**_

"Alice!" Rosalie flung herself at me the minute I'd hand time to adjust my eyes to the bright lighting of Port Angeles' tiny airport after an almost pitch black flight (and an excellent pitch black make out session which some little punk decided to film on his practically floodlit iPhone. Jasper gave me the honor of stamping on it. Damn thing took three tries before it shattered).

"Alice!" Esme and Bella joined Rosalie in a giant four way amazing smelling hug. Jasper stood a little way away, his arms loosely folded, looking highly amused.

"Hi Mom. Nice to see you again, sisters mine."

"Hi Jasper!" They all chorused, and then continued to hug me as tightly as they had when we'd been trying to mask my scent from James over a year ago. I wondered if it was my decision to return for Emily and Sam's wedding and thus curtail my honeymoon that made them so enthusiastic to see me, or whether they'd always planned to smother with sororal/maternal love the minute I agreed not to elope to Vegas with their respective adoptive brother/son.

Carlisle and Emmett began to gather up our bags, despite my protestations that I was fine, that they didn't have to. It seemed as if the entire family had selective hearing where I was concerned, though I needn't have stressed – Emmett carried all four cases in one massive hand, causing the few people still milling around in the terminal to gape in astonishment. He obligingly bared his teeth in what was supposed to be a winning smile, and two teenager girls who had been eyeing him from afar flinched.

In celebration of our married couple status, we got to ride with the serial bride and groom (more commonly known as Emmett and Rosalie). The latter cheerfully informed me that she was planning them yet another spring wedding, and asked when I planned on tying the knot again. I told her never, and we bickered merrily all the way home while Emmett and Jasper sat in the back and helpfully pretended not be listening. Only when Rosalie began to tell me about my dress for tomorrow's wedding did I catch Jasper's almost imperceptible flinch in the mirror. He was worried about Quil, and to be honest so was I. He had pontificated trying to kill me at our last meeting, after all.

The jetlag began to catch up with me as the lights of Forks hove into view. The knowledge that I was actually somewhat near a bed that wasn't a highly padded chair masquerading as a bed gave me so must satisfaction that I fell fast asleep, only narrowly avoiding hitting the dashboard as I went down.

_James crouched by the mangled remains of my leg, a slight smirk evident on his generically handsome face. I resisted the temptation to roll my eyes._

"_You're dead," I reminded him._

"_Yes," he agreed. "But then, so are you."_

"_What?" I looked around – yep, same old ballet studio that I almost lost my life in. "I'm not dead, you idiot. I survived you beating me to a pulp, I survived throwing myself off a cliff –" A small smirk of my own was building on my lips. "And I've formed a lasting and functional relationship with someone. So _there_."_

"_He'll kill you, you know," James remarked conversationally._

_I actually did roll my eyes. "I'm kinda counting on that, dumbass."_

"_Him," James continued, obviously laboring under the delusion that I hadn't spoken a word. "And the other."_

"_The other?" I scoffed. "Seriously, I have been watching way too many scary movies on HBO if I'm having prophetic dreams about 'the other'. Can't you be more original?"_

_James shrugged. "I'm you. And you're split in two in more ways than one – more ways than you know."_

"_So we're having number analogies now? Sweet mother of mercy."_

"_Remember my words, Alice," the tracker continued solemnly. "When you die for the two and the one dies for you, who will you turn to? Who will save you from division?"_

"_Oh great, a hallucination that rhymes." I eyed him speculatively. James wore the same outfit he had on that day in the ballet studio, but my dreaming mind had added details which made him more unnerving in a Hollywood-esque way: redder eyes; sharper teeth; vaguely greasier hair._

"_Okay." I raised a battered hand and gave him a little wave. "I'm waking up in 3…2__…__"_

"_Remember you will die!"_

"_Remember you're an asshole!" I replied, _and woke up between the crisp familiarity of Jasper's black sheets.

It was morning.

He had far too many clothes on.

We both smiled identical smiles.

_**~#~**_

"You realize this is the social equivalent of tagging, right?" I pointed out as Rosalie maneuvered me into yet another dress. "Wearing a dress that you guys have picked out is like having a flashing neon sign that says 'overprotective sister-in-law thinks I'm going to cheat on her brother with my kinda sorta but not really ex'!"

"Nonsense," Rosalie mumbled, her mouth full of pins. "And have you been working out or something? Your stomach's hard as a rock."

"No. But the island did have some pretty questionable foodstuffs…" As if to underline my statement, my stomach gave a growl. I'd been playing Barbie doll for over three hours, and the strain was starting to show – even on someone who loved fashion as much as I did. "Listen, I really liked the Ralph Lauren cowl neck – you know, the halter. Can we try that one on again?"

Sighing, Rosalie retrieved the light gray dress from the towering pile by her bed and held it up against me. "No. You need a stronger color."

I raised my eyebrows. "Fine. The same dress, but in pale green. Will that do?"

She sighed again, but retrieved my request from the pile and slid me into it. Taking a step back, she regarded me through narrowed eyes and then nodded. "That's better. Not too innocent, not too revealing, not too 'I'm a nun', not too 'I'm a hussy'."

"Rosalie!"

The sadistic beauty smiled. Her teeth flashed in the light of the chandelier. "Quil may have been at your wedding, Alice, but that doesn't mean that he's grasped the fact you're married. And not that I don't trust you –" She reassured as I eyed her mutinously. "It's just that I'm not entirely sure he'll be too keen to remember said fact if you go in looking quite as glowing as you do." Her perfect face had waxed sincere. I bit my lip.

"I'm going for Emily, Rose. Not for Quil."

"Yeah, well –" She zipped me up fiercely. "Just you make sure he remembers."

"I remember," I replied, equally fierce. "I remember he thought about killing me just so that no one else could have me. Even if he forgets, I'll remember."

**~#~**

"I really…mmmm…I really am going to be late."

"Let them wait."

Since our joining together in holy matrimony, Jasper seemed to be a lot more relaxed about our make out sessions. His lips glided along my jaw, down my neck – I stayed still and tried not to discombobulate on the spot. When his mouth once more alighted on mine we did battle for a few breathy minutes before I once more regained control of my limbs and gave him a little push.

"Late. I will be. Very."

"So be late."

"But…mmmm…"

I closed my eyes and promised myself that in two more minutes, I would gather the strength of will required to wrench myself away from him. I hoped the honeymoon period would never end (despite my earlier prophecies), that we'd be like this always – but even I could see the impossibility of such a dream. For the next year or so, I'd be ravenous, ruthless and with no compunctions about getting what I wanted. Love would take a backseat to thirst and Jasper would be hard pushed trying to control me, let alone spend quality time with the sort of creature I would become.


	28. Cauterize

**_Don't say it - I can already feel your wrath from across cyberspace._**

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**27. Cauterize**

A lump formed in my throat as I looked at Sam. He looked so handsome – dashing, even, his usually shirtless body clad in a pristine tuxedo; the stark colors somehow made him look even bigger. He extended one hand, and we shook solemnly. Then, without warning, I was hoisted into the air as he seized me under the armpits and lifted me into a bone crushing hug.

"Sam – ah – can't breathe –"

"Thank you." His deep voice made rumbles against my chest. "Thank you so much for coming." After a long moment he gently set me back on my feet and I brushed down my dress, wheezing.

"Where's Emily?"

"At the house," Sam replied, taking my small hand in his large one and leading me deeper into the densely growing hemlocks. "She's waiting for you. I've been told to tell you that you've been given the role of lieutenant maid of honor, which basically means your job is to do what every other woman in La Push is doing – clucking over her, tugging at her dress and making sure she gets to Quil's on time."

I stopped in my tracks, almost tripping headlong over a knot of ferns. "Quil's?"

"Yeah. Quil Senior is going to be our officiator." He frowned "Did no one tell you?"

My stomach clenched. "No. No one told me. It seems I'm always the last to know anything where Quil's concerned."

My right heel sank into one cluster of particularly gnarled roots and the conversation paused for a moment while Sam heaved and I hopped my way out of it. "Sam, I came under the assumption that I might see Quil in passing, not that his grandfather would be the one _marrying_ you. We didn't part on good terms."

Sam raised a shaggy eyebrow. "Bit of an understatement, that."

We continued through the foliage in silence, the tiny cheeping sounds of birds and squirreling of squirrels seeming to have died away. One part of me pushed away the idea of Quil as an enemy, but the other…the other lingered on that unwanted, unmentionable kiss; on his hatred of Jasper; on the sickening feeling of his hands around my throat. The memory made me shudder, and Sam draped a casual arm across my shoulders.

"Nearly there," he said soothingly. I opened my mouth to ask what he planned to do about his now badly crumpled tuxedo as we broke through the trees at the edge of the road, but there I saw something which made all thoughts flee from my head.

Leah Clearwater was there, and she looked more beautiful than I'd ever seen her. Her tall, angular frame was softened with buttercup yellow waves, and she held a bouquet of sunflowers casually in one hand, the green ribbons trailing. Her crow black hair was as long and loose as ever, flashing blue in the watery sunshine, drawing parallels with the jaybirds which hid in the canopy.

"Nice dress," I offered as we drew level, Sam peeling away from my side like a rueful banana skin. He loped off along the fork to my right, and Leah's eyes didn't even flicker in his direction to watch him go.

"Nice ring," she retorted instead.

I gasped in faux offense, then grinned at her. Truthfully, I was beginning to feel little nigglings of guilt – I'd barely spoken to anyone except the Cullens for months, and destiny had given me a bitter, beautiful werewolf to bring these feelings to the surface. "How are you?"

Leah's long hair shielded her face as she inclined her head in acknowledgement of the question. "I've been better."

"You look lovely."

"Yeah." Her nose wrinkled. "Listen, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to your wedding." Her brow furrowed, and she looked down at her feet. "I'm not high enough on love for you to brave that many vamps."

"It's okay."

"I know I should've called, but –"

"It's _okay_," I repeated. "I'm actually glad that you _didn't_ come – an all out brawl featuring the bride's side versus the groom's side wouldn't exactly have been the best start to the day."

She barked out a laugh, beckoning with one hand. I trotted obediently to her side, and we began to walk down the same road that Sam had taken, though he was now long out of sight. I looked around me, taking in the sights of La Push. Little had changed since my last visit, as it probably hadn't for centuries beforehand. There were tiny things – a new front door on the Call house, a young oak planted in Kim Kerr's front yard – but no one had bought or sold their car, no one had painted their garage. It felt as if some invisible power was trying to remind me of my former sanctuary.

"So." Leah's tone was nonchalant, but one hand was spasmodically clenching and unclenching as she spoke. "How long are you gonna be one of us normal people?"

"You're not normal, Leah."

"I'm not dead either." She kicked a stone that had grazed her right sandal, and a small puff of dust rose as it rolled off the track. "And you are, practically – dead meat walking. Meals on feet."

"Hey," I said, stung. "That's not fair. It's not as if it isn't my choice, or as if they're doing it for food or out of spite – they're doing it out of love."

"So if I killed you, would that be out of love?"

"It's not the same."

"Who are you trying to convince?" The line of her jaw was like red granite, and I felt too tired to argue. Far from the newlywed macking with her gorgeously inhuman husband, I now felt a hundred years old and jaded as hell. If I told my parents about the change, would they chastise me too? Would Carlisle and Esme have to apply for their permission to keep me, feed me, change me?

Would anything ever be the same again?

"Look." Leah's voice was rough and hesitant, and I could tell she was regretting her words. "I'm sorry we're not as close as we once were, and I'm sorry I can't persuade you out of this. But –" She held up one hand as I began to protest. "It's your decision; it's your life. But I still think you're one crazy girl –God help the man who has to spend eternity with you."

I smiled genuinely at Leah, more at peace now she'd given her approval. "If he has to spend eternity with me, a little craziness to shake things up won't go amiss."

"I'm sure it won't."

The cool, dark voice came from right behind me, and I shrieked and jumped about a foot in the air. My heart began to slam against my ribs as a large hand caught me and spun me around, bringing me nose-to-chest with –

"Qu – Quil?" I stuttered. "What are you –"

"I live here," he replied evenly, guessing my question and not letting go of the elbow he'd propelled me round with. "In case you'd forgotten. But then, I suppose you haven't visited in a while. Grandfather says he misses your conversation."

_Don't you try and emotionally blackmail me!_ I thought furiously, and then I stretched up high on my tiptoes and hissed, "D'you think your grandfather would be happy in the knowledge that you tried to _strangle_ me at my own wedding? Would he agree that 'at least I wouldn't belong to anyone if I was dead'? Where the hell do you get off even _talking_ to me?!"

"You don't understand," he said roughly. "I thought –"

"That I'd be the Little Red Riding Hood to your Big Bad? That you were doing what was best for me? That I was going to waltz off into the sunset with you? I don't think so!" I folded my arms.

"Just –" Quil raised one hand, fending me off. "Just stop! Will you listen to yourself – you're not even giving me a chance to explain!"

"You've explained. I've rebutted. What else is there to say?"

His face set like a stone. "The treaty. I need to remind you and your man about the treaty, because it seems to me that the two of you are walking around with your heads in the clouds and not realizing the consequences of your actions."

My stomach fizzed with rage. "We are _not_ –"

"Alice." Leah's warm hand closed around my arm. "Listen to what he has to say." I opened my mouth, but her grip tightened to forestall me. "Yes, like I said, it's your life; it's your ooshy-gooshy fairytale young adult vampire romance novel. But it's our business too, and we only want what's best for you." Her dark eyes were fiercely sincere. "Can you believe that?"

Could I believe that? Could I _live_ with believing that?

I sighed. "Yes."

"Good." She chucked me lightly under the chin. "Now, be a good girl and go with the third wheel in your relationship, and for God's sake thrash this sucker out." The pressure on my arm slackened and then disappeared as Leah raised her arm in a mocking salute. I glared at her, and she grinned. "See you at the wedding." And then, without another word, she followed Sam's tracks off down the road, leaving me alone with Quil. I turned my back on him, stalking toward the neutral ground that the forest provided.

"Let's get this over with."

"Call him," Quil snarled. "This involves him too."

I ignored his bile and speed dialed Jasper, who picked up the phone in less than a heartbeat.

"Is it over? That was quicker than I expected." His voice was warm, teasing; and here I was, about to upend a bucket of water of his good mood.

"It hasn't started yet, but you need to come here. Quil wants to talk to us." Succinct, yes. Guaranteed to keep him calm and controlled? One resounding no.

Jasper's voice dropped to a growl. "You're with him now."

I snorted, casting a nasty look back over my shoulder. "I am."

"I'm on my way."

A sudden thought struck me, and the level of my voice dropped to just above a whisper, as if I were relaying a shameful secret. "Have you hunted?"

"Yes." Relief flooded me at his affirmative. "I found a protected area a few miles north – easy pickings."

"I hope you got some wolves."

He laughed. "No. But if you want, I could get the one you have with you."

"You're sweet. The promise of bloody violence – be still my beating heart."

"I'm almost there, are you close to La Push?"

"Yes, quite deep in the forest. I hope you can find us."

"I could find you in the pitch black." This time the voice came not out of the tinny speaker on my cell, but from a spot a few feet away and to my left. Both Quil's head and mine snapped to the side in an identical movement as Jasper strode out from between the trunks of two spruces, as neat and sweet as if he hadn't been tearing the throats out of mountains lions only a few minutes earlier.

"Gag," I said by way of a greeting. "No melodrama, please. I get enough of it from him."

"Ah, yes." Jasper crossed to my side, kissing me as casually as if we were carrying on a conversation. "The werewolf wedding crasher, who now feels the need to abduct my wife from – wouldn't you know it – another wedding." He looked down at me, his eyes liquid gold. "What does he want?"

"To talk. Your eyes are a lovely color."

"I like yours better."

Quil had clearly had enough of our exchange. He cleared his throat. "If the two of you are finished, Sam asked me to speak to you on his behalf, seeing as he's…indisposed."

"He's getting married," I said helpfully. "Not exactly an indisposition."

"In any case," Quil continued. "Sam wishes me to remind you of the rules of the treaty, especially you, Alice. He wishes to remind you that your bloodsucker and his – his _family_ – are unwelcome in La Push, and that they are not allowed to hunt in the woods which surround it. They are prohibited from feeding on any humans whatsoever, and the biting of a human will be taken as an open expression of warfare. This means," he continued, and strange smile began to appear on his face – tautening rather than enhancing it. "That you cannot bite Alice to turn her, to drink from her or for any kind of pleasure you may gain from doing so."

"Ew." My nose wrinkled automatically. "I'm sorry if that's your thing, but we don't get our kicks from biting each other."

"Then what?" Quil's face was openly gleeful now. "What can you do that won't snap you in half? Can't have been much of a honeymoon – what did you do, play chess?"

Jasper had gone rigid with shock, but I had already progressed to the next stage – anger. "We did honeymoon things on our honeymoon, thank you!" I spat, enjoying as the smirk wiped clean off his face. "Things that you and I couldn't, wouldn't and will _never_ do, and it was the greatest time of my life, thank you _very_ much for asking!"

"You'd be dead," Quil choked, his face suddenly very pale.

"Well look at that, I'm not." I was mad enough to spit teeth, but his eyes were fixed on Jasper, and they were bulging.

"I'll kill you," he whispered, the soft words building to a roar. "I'll kill you!"

Shreds of fabric flew as Jasper pulled me behind him, shielding me from the giant brown wolf that was tearing its way through Quil's body. I was suddenly clenched with the enormity of it – my husband and my erstwhile best friend, the friend who could be really, truly and honestly doing this out of love and anxiety for my life and not simply from childish malice, the friend who I didn't want to _die_ – and I threw myself into the tiny space which served as a breach between them, my palms outstretched to halt the second of impact.

Love is said to conquer all, but I was too late to save all of us.


	29. None Shall Fear The Dying Rays

**_Chapter 28 began its life as something very long, complicated and graphic. I prefer this version._**

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**28. None Shall Fear The Dying Rays**

As human beings, we have a tendency to fall down. Sticks, stones, hating hands – but a lot of the time it's for love. We chase after what we want until we stumble, and then we just lie there in the moss and cry.

It didn't beat, and I could still feel his heart. I could feel it flush against mine, both of them beating together, mated the way we had been since the day he was born. It could've taken more than the plus century it already had and I knew he would have found me; he would have hunted me down and taken my soul into his keeping at seventy as easily as he did at seventeen.

And in the end, dying didn't hurt so much. Maybe I was an old hand after two previous tries, but the process was much more a gradual darkening than any flash of pain or panic coming to steal my breath.

If you try to touch a star, it will always fade and fall away – but not mine. Mine loved me, and mine I loved until the very last moment of my life.


End file.
